


(Im)Possible

by AntarcticBird



Category: Glee
Genre: Community: kbl-reversebang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1997379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the blacksmith's son doesn't exactly give Kurt a lot of opportunities to put on nice clothes and dance, but then his friends sneak him into a royal ball for the prince's 17th birthday for one night of fun. And for the first time in his life he gets to dance with a boy and flirt with a boy and just be himself - until he has to run off to get back home before his dad notices his absence. What he doesn't know is that the boy he danced with was Prince Blaine himself, and that Blaine, who still believes Kurt to be nobility, leaves no stone unturned to find the wonderful boy he just can't forget...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [hopelesslydevotedgleek](http://hopelesslydevotedgleek.tumblr.com/) for the beautiful art that inspired this and for the wonderful plot idea. Also, thanks to [mailroomorder](mailroomorder.tumblr.com) and [hopelesslydevotedgleek](http://hopelesslydevotedgleek.tumblr.com/) for betaing. Additional thanks to [charlie-of-oz-writes](charlie-of-oz-writes.tumblr.com) and [hazelandglasz](hazelandglasz.tumblr.com) for providing me with suggestions that eventually led me to find a title for this thing. I've had a lot of fun with this. I finished it over two months ago when things were calmer and I am posting this in the middle of moving, surrounded by boxes in an almost empty apartment using a GPRS connection. I hope it works! And I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

He knows that running is no use, that they'll catch up to him anyway, and yet he still runs every single time. And every single time he loses.

This time, they corner him right by the edge of the pond, laughing and pushing him around and he can see the stares of the people passing by, refuses to meet their eyes because he knows they won't help him. This has been going on for years. No one has ever helped him. And no one ever will.

He doesn't know why they hate him, he has no idea why they enjoy hurting him. But he hasn't been without bruises for more than a few days since he was ten years old and he doesn't like it, but he has learned that fighting back will only make them hit him harder.

“Hey, not so fast, we just want to play,” Azimio shouts, shoving him so forcefully he stumbles over his feet and crashes against Karofsky's chest.

“Oh look!” Karofsky laughs, gripping his shoulders hard and holding Kurt away from him, shaking him a little. “I think he likes me!”

He shoves him hard and Kurt stumbles backwards, arms flailing as he's starting to lose his balance. Azimio hits him hard in the chest and he falls over, water splashing as he lands in the shallow water of the pond, hitting the ground so hard he can't quite hold in the little yelp of pain that escapes him.

“Aw no, now he's gonna cry like a little girl,” Karofsky comments.

Kurt bites his lip, still refusing to defend himself even if it's not true. He hasn't cried in front of them once, and he's never going to. Maybe that's why they keep pushing him around. He's still not going to give them the satisfaction of knowing they can affect him at all. He's not going to break.

Karofsky bends down to scoop up a handful of mud, flings it at him with another laugh. “You have something on your face,” he says before he walks off.

Kurt feels the gravel in the mud scratch the skin on his cheek painfully, but still he doesn't move, doesn't make a sound until they've walked away. Only then does he carefully wipe his face, crawls out of the pond to walk home in wet clothes and with dirt on his face.

At least it's early spring and the ice has melted, even if the water is still cold enough to be painful. But he remembers how it had hurt breaking through the ice with his shoulder during the winter months, how the cold had stolen his breath away every time. His entire left arm had been one big bruise after they'd pushed him through the ice a month ago. At least this time, he's only cold and wet. He can live with that. This is nothing he isn't used to.

**

“Kurt?”

He hastily snaps the lid shut on the small wooden box, hiding his precious papers and pencils from view, and shoving the entire box under his bed for good measure. “Yes?”

It's not that he's afraid his father would make fun of him for his drawing. It's just – private. Something to remind his hands what it feels like to handle delicate things after working in the blacksmith's shop all day.

The door opens, his father poking his head inside. “There you are. I was worried when you didn't come back right away.”

Kurt nods, presses his lips together, suddenly glad that all of his clothes look pretty much the same anyway – his dad will never have to know he had to go home and change after walking back from the market. It happens almost every week, Kurt is used to it. If it's not Karofsky, it's somebody else – Kurt has been in that pond more times than anyone else in this entire village, he's sure of it.

“I'm sorry,” he says to his father. “I just – thought I might have left the window open this morning and wanted to check. I'm coming back to work right now.”

“I'm not angry with you, son,” Burt assures him. “I just wanted to see where you were. It's a slow day anyway. Finn can handle things by himself for a while.”

Kurt smiles. Because Finn, his father's other apprentice, actually used to be one of the boys who pushed him in the pond, and now they're friends. Some days, things like that are almost enough to give him back some hope for the rest of humanity.

He spends the rest of the day diving into work and not even coming up for a minute until closing time – there really isn't that much to do, but he can always find things to occupy his time. When there are no other jobs to be done, he keeps himself busy tidying up, sorting through and cleaning their tools, taking stock of their supplies and eventually patching up a few aprons that have definitely seen better days.

Finn watches him work silently, sitting on a crate and eating an apple, then taking care of a few small tasks of his own, but all the while frowning slightly whenever Kurt meets his eyes across the tiny shop. If Kurt didn't know better, he'd almost say he looked worried.

They say goodnight once it's finally time to close up – Finn even asking Kurt to come to the pub with him, but Kurt declines. He really does just want to go home.

So he follows his dad upstairs, starts putting together their dinner the way he does every night, and checks on the clothes he'd hung up in his room earlier to let them dry.

Sometimes he wonders if he'd actually manage to be content with this life if the teasing and shoving just stopped. He thinks of the box hidden away under his bed, the box full of sketches of all the beautiful things he dreams of, and sighs. He slices chunks off a brick of cheese and wishes he could just be happy with what he's got: the best father in the world, a nice home, a steady job. What more could he possibly wish for? Maybe he just has to learn to be content with the things he has and stop longing for the things he'll never have.

**

Rachel stops him in the middle of the market square, calls out his name and rushes over to catch his arm, beaming at him.

He squirms, looking around. He always gets nervous about being seen with her – not for his own sake, but for hers.

They grew up together when Kurt's mother used to work as a cook for Rachel's family and brought Kurt into work with her every day. There were years when she was like a sister to him – her fathers never cared about social standing, never minded that the boy she called her best friend was the son of a cook and a blacksmith. But now that his mother is no longer alive and he and Rachel are both grown up, he is pretty sure that by everyone else's rules, they aren't supposed to be friends anymore.

Rachel has never seemed to care about that, though, still invites him over for tea and gossips with him about her noble friends, even looks in at the blacksmith's shop when she's passing through their street as if it's just like any other shop in the village where she buys her ribbons and hair brushes and fruit. He knows she has even struck up a tentative friendship with Finn and he is quite sure he saw Puck leave her house once when he arrived for tea.

He's glad that Rachel hasn't abandoned him. Not just because she keeps giving him gifts of paper and pencils and, occasionally, pieces of beautiful fabric. But also because he does indeed still love her like a sister. No one else, except for his father, knows him quite as well as she does. And then there's the fact that the times he visits her are the only times he can ever really be himself – he never has to hide who he is with Rachel. They talk about boys. He listens to her when she tells him about kissing Jesse St. James and he tells her about the (very few) boys he's dreamed of kissing. And in her house, he's never judged. No one in her family cares about his preferences.

Actually, Rachel's fathers were among the first to get married when the king changed the law two decades ago. It's just the villagers who still see it as an offense when two men or two women get married, or that's what he believes. Even if Rachel keeps assuring him that it's not much different in their circles, that just because they're allowed to marry doesn't mean people necessarily like it, Kurt doesn't believe her. He's pretty sure her fathers never get pushed in frozen ponds because they love each other. That is definitely more than he has or will ever be allowed to have. But he appreciates her efforts to make him feel better all the same.

“Kurt!” Rachel beams at him, hugging him where everyone can see and not seeming to mind at all the dirty looks some people are throwing them.

“Rachel,” he says. “How are you?”

She pulls back, hitting his arm. “I'm very mad at you! You haven't been to see me in over a month!”

He sighs. “I'm so very sorry. I've been busy.”

“See, I know that's not true because I just spoke to Finn and he tells me that business has been slow for weeks now.” She fixes him with a firm glare, worry still evident in the crease of her brow. “Are you all right?”

Kurt nods quickly, making sure to smile as widely as he can. “I'm very well, thank you for asking. I'm sorry I have been neglecting you. How can I make it up to you?”

Rachel seems to think about it, tapping a gloved finger against her chin as she squints her eyes at him. “Come over for tea this afternoon.”

He sighs. “Rachel, I can't, my dad -”

“- has Finn,” she cuts him off. “He can do without you for one afternoon. I'll give you cake,” she adds, batting her lashes at him and smiling. “Please, Kurt. I've missed you these past few weeks.”

Lowering his head, he smiles, then nods hesitantly. “All right. I've missed you too, Rachel,” he admits. “I'll have to talk to my father, but if he can spare me today, I'll come over.”

“Wonderful,” she exclaims, squeezing his hand and bouncing a little on her feet. “I'm looking forward to seeing you later!”

He watches her walk away, shakes his head at her behind her back. She's been like this ever since they were children, but he loves her for it.

**

Kurt never uses the front door at the Berry estate.

His mother has been gone for years, but most of the servants still remember her, and they know her son. He's been entering this house through the kitchen since he was a few months old and that's what he does today as well. The cook knows him, always has a smile and sometimes a leftover piece of pastry for him.

Today, he only stops to talk with her for a few minutes, then proceeds into the main part of the house and all the way through to the small library where he and Rachel always take their tea at this time of year when it's cold outside.

He doesn't knock, never does, it's only ever him and Rachel who make use of the small library. Usually, he's there before her and he's prepared to spend at least half an hour admiring the old books, maybe picking one to borrow as he's done on occasion.

But when he's pushing the heavy doors open, he's greeted with the sight of not only his best friend, but also the Lady Santana, Puck, and, of all people, Finn. He stops in his tracks, gaping.

“What are you all doing here?” he asks, slightly dumbfounded. This has never happened before.

Rachel takes a step forward, expression serious. “Kurt,” she says. “I asked them here.”

“But why?” He knows he's staring, but he can't help it, rooted to the spot as he tries to make sense of Finn in Rachel's library. Both he and Puck are looking more than a little out of place here. “Finn?” He asks. “What are you – And Puck – I don't understand!”

“We want to help,” Finn says, as if that explains everything.

“Help with what?” Kurt shakes his head. “Rachel?`” he asks. “This was your idea, wasn't it? Please explain.”

“Yeah, I'm still not quite sure what I'm doing here,” Puck falls in. “I thought maybe you needed me to beat someone up for you. I saw what Karofsky did the other day.” His shrug is matter-of-factly but his eyes show concern. “I could take care of him for you, if you wanted me to.”

“No, thank you,” Kurt says, not quite sure how to react to that offer.

“We're here because lately you've been having a really hard time, and we wanted to let you know that we see that,” Rachel explains.

“You've been rather depressing to be around,” Santana speaks up. “Like a sad little puppy. It's all very unpleasant.”

“I'm fine,” Kurt promises them.

Rachel gives him a sad look. “Kurt, I love you,” she says. “And I've known you my whole life. I know that you're not fine. There's no use lying to me. You don't have to be brave for us. We're your _friends_.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow at Santana who looks back at him, shrugging and rolling her eyes as if to say, _what the hell, might as well acknowledge it after all these years_. Well. He assumes they could call each other friends – a close friend of Rachel's, she's always been around since they were children, and he respects her. He respects the fact that even though born into a noble life, she could drink most guys under the table and knows curse words that make even Puck blush. If she were interested in men at all, he'd almost try to play matchmaker for the two of them, just to teach Puck a lesson.

“But I really am fine,” he repeats. “I'm truly touched that you went to all this trouble for me. But there's nothing wrong.”

“Actually, we brought you here because we have an idea,” Rachel tells him. “There is something we want to do for you.”

“Oh?” Kurt gives her a questioning look, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “That's nice of you, but there's no need -”

“You've been unhappy,” Finn cuts in. “We all know it. And we feel bad that there isn't more we can do to protect you against the bullies in the village.”

“They are my problem, not yours, I don't expect you to -” Kurt starts.

“The dwarf queen here wants to take you to the royal ball in three months as her date,” Santana interrupts him, heaving an impatient sigh. “There. Now he knows. Can I go now? I'm expecting a visitor.”

“Brittany will wait five minutes if you're not there,” Rachel reminds her, then turns to Kurt, who just stares at her open-mouthed. “What do you say?”

“- Rachel …”

“We're all going to help,” Finn tells him. “I'll make sure your father goes to the pubs with me that night so he won't notice your absence.”

“I'll be your date,” Rachel goes on to explain.

“And whenever you're free over the next few weeks, Brittany and I will give you dancing lessons,” Santana says.

Puck throws his hands up in the air, eyebrows raised as his eyes scan the room. “Hey. What's my job?”

Santana shrugs. “Keep the people in the village from bashing his pretty face in between now and the ball; he can't show up with a black eye.”

“Oh.” He looks slightly affronted. “Of _course_ I'll do that. I do that all the time anyway.” His eyes scan the room, eyebrows raised expectantly. “What, you don't trust me with anything else?”

Santana gets very interested in studying her fingernails, Rachel clears her throat, Finn seems to have found something very fascinating on the ceiling. Puck just keeps waiting, the silence stretching a bit awkwardly – Kurt vividly remembers the time Puck had taken him and Finn to the market in the next village and then stranded them there, disappearing with the carriage to take some girl on a picnic. Puck means well, but he gets distracted very easily.

“I appreciate your help, Puck, and I thank you for it,” Kurt hurries to say. “I thank all of you. But this isn't necessary. None of this. I can't -” He sighs, meeting Rachel's eyes. “You know I can't go to the ball. I'm not of noble birth.”

“We'll keep that our little secret.” Rachel winks, smiles at him. “Just wait. Three months from now, you'll be my date. And we'll have a wonderful night.”

Kurt sighs, and shakes his head. He knows they just want to help. But this will never work, as much as he wants it to. The idea of going to a ball – it sounds like a dream come true. It sounds too good. There is no way they can pull this off. Well, at least he has three months to convince them that this is foolish.


	2. Chapter 2

Three months later, Kurt throws Finn a grateful look as he convinces Burt to close up early and go for a beer with him because they haven't done that in a while.

“Kurt, you wanna come too?” Finn asks, winking at him exaggeratedly when Burt isn't looking.

Kurt yawns, stretching out his arms, shaking his head. “Thank you for asking, Finn. But I'm exhausted. I think I'll just turn in early, if you don't mind.”

His father looks at him worried, and Kurt hates himself for a moment for deceiving his father. “You all right, son? You look pale.”

Kurt smiles at him. “Don't worry about me, dad. I just need a good night's sleep.”

He watches Finn and his dad leave, then hurries upstairs to get his bundle with the clothes and leaves for Rachel's house.

He hasn't been able to change his friends' minds during the last three months; instead, they have worked tirelessly at convincing him that this was actually something they could accomplish. And now that the night has at last arrived, he even lets himself look forward to it, heart beating hard in his chest as he runs along the familiar streets in the fading late afternoon sun.

They almost had to call it off when it seemed like Kurt simply wouldn't have anything to wear and none of Rachel's dad's clothes fit him – plain clothes and a blacksmith's leather apron are hardly appropriate attire for a royal ball. But then Puck of all people had shown up at his door, handing him a bundle of clothes, clapping his shoulder with a smirk. “Lady Kitty's husband has your built,” he'd said. “He won't miss those, but you should probably be careful with them anyway, I guess we should return them eventually.”

Kurt changes at Rachel's house, fusses with his hair until Rachel laughs at him, swats at his arm and tells him he looks very handsome.

“We really have to get going,” she reminds him. “If either of us wants a chance to dance with the prince.”

Kurt feels himself pale even more, so nervous he's afraid he'll throw up. “Rachel, I swear, if you abandon me to dance with some prince -”

She laughs. “Don't worry. I'll be by your side the entire time.”

**

The palace is even bigger up close than Kurt had ever imagined it to be. He hasn't left his village often, and has certainly never been to see the palace, despite the fact that it's only a twenty-minute carriage ride away. As a blacksmith's apprentice, there isn't much cause in his life to travel or visit castles and palaces.

He sits very still on his seat next to Rachel as the carriage rolls to a stop, afraid he'll miss something if he blinks, overwhelmed by the grandness of it all – the marble and the pillars and the fountain in the middle of the square and the servants in better clothes than Rachel's fathers wear most days, standing by the doors to greet them. He doesn't think he remembers how to move. The great entrance door alone, both wings open for the occasion of the ball, looks bigger than his entire _house_. It is unimaginable how people actually live here. Who could possibly need this much space?

It's not that he isn't impressed, he really is. It's – wonderful. All of it. And yet the question that occupies his thoughts as he looks upon the place he's dreamed of seeing for so long is: the distances are so great, by the time the people who live here return to their rooms from lunch they probably have to leave right away again just to make it to dinner on time.

He suppresses a giddy laugh, suddenly light-headed with the realization that he's actually _here_ , this is actually real.

“Kurt,” Rachel whispers close to his ear, poking him in the ribs. “You're supposed to get out, and then help me out after you.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.” He shakes his head firmly, snapping back into the moment. Part of his disguise has to be to reduce the open-mouthed staring to a minimum – no one can know that he doesn't belong here, no one can know that he usually doesn't wear clothes these nice, doesn't walk through halls this grand, and instead always has dirt under his fingernails and grime in his hair.

Holding his head high even though his heart is hammering against his ribs almost painfully, he opens the door, slides gracefully from the carriage, then turns to offer his hand to Rachel. She smiles encouragingly and lets him help her climb out, then takes his arm. “Well done,” she murmurs, quietly.

“And this was the easy part,” he whispers back. “In case I step on your feet when we dance, I'd like to apologize in advance.”

“Nonsense,” Rachel says, pinching his forearm. “Brittany has taught you well. You'll do beautifully.”

It's true – with Brittany's dancing skills and Santana's harsh criticism, he has become a rather proficient dancer over the past few months. Far from perfect, but he'll be able to fool people for just this one night, he thinks. But then, he hadn't been this nervous during _any_ of his lessons.

A servant is already in place to accompany them inside, showing them through the great entrance hall that is bigger than the village square and into the ballroom.

They're late since Kurt had had to stay at work until his dad and Finn had left – the ball is already in full swing, the orchestra playing from their spot on the balcony and what looks like hundreds of well-dressed people dancing, smiling, enjoying themselves.

Rachel waits with him patiently when Kurt just has to stop and stare for a moment – everyone here is beautiful, or so it seems. It's a swirl of color as far as the eye can see. There's music playing. There's laughter and dancing and lightness and Kurt can't breathe for just a second, there's so much light, so much joy, and it is – perfect.

“Rachel,” he says, not sure what else there is to say.

She reaches for his hand, squeezing it briefly. “I know.”

“Thank you.”

She leans into him, a small comforting gesture he's been familiar with since he was a child. “Dance with me?”

He laughs. “Of course. Of course I'll dance with you. Isn't that why we came here?”

**

Blaine has been to so many balls in his life, they have lost almost all their appeal, even if he does love to dance. He loves the music and usually does end up having fun, but lately it has just been the same pattern over and over – before he even has the chance to dance with anyone he knows, his parents are already busy setting him up to dance with all the daughters and sons of all the people who are politically important in some way, and he hasn't had the heart so far to tell them he doesn't like any of them.

The girls are nice, for the most part, he's actually made friends with a number of them and always enjoys seeing them again at the next ball. But if his parents are hoping to find him a nice girl to marry, they're out of luck. And even the boys he's met so far haven't been able to hold his attention – marrying a man would still be a bold move for someone in his position anyway even if the law has been in place almost twenty years. But he's not very interested in marriage yet anyway, he's only just turned seventeen. He has time.

He bows to his next dance partner – a girl at least ten years older than himself; pretty, but just not his type. He sighs, smiles when she smiles, leads her around the crowded ballroom, attempting to make small talk that is pleasant enough to keep her happy for the duration of the dance.

The song is coming to a close when he sees him.

He's dancing just a few feet away with a girl Blaine vaguely remembers seeing before. But he's never seen him before. He's quite sure he'd remember.

His clothes are beautiful, his hair perfect, but it's his smile that captures Blaine's attention – it crinkles the corners of his eyes, dimples forming high on his cheeks as he throws his head back and laughs at something the girl says. He looks – so happy.

Everyone here is in a good mood; it's a ball. But while the smiles on everyone else's faces are polite, careful, restrained, this boy looks as if he's made of pure joy, eyes glowing and cheeks red with unashamed happiness.

Blaine wants to know his name. Anyone who can laugh like that is someone he needs to know. Anyone with a smile that exuberant and beautiful is someone he needs to dance with.

As soon as the music stops, he makes his excuses to his dance partner, complimenting her dress and her dancing skills and bowing deeply before hurrying off in the direction he last saw him in.

He and his dance partner have moved closer to the edge of the room, still standing close as if waiting for the next dance to begin. Blaine knows it's rude, the way he almost jumps in between them, no doubt interrupting their conversation, but he can't take any chances, he can't risk this man disappearing on him before he had a chance to talk to him.

“I'm sorry,” he says upon seeing the startled expressions on their faces. “May I cut in?”

The girls eyes widen in recognition and she's about to curtsy when the man lets out a short, surprised laugh. “By all means,” he says, taking a step back. “Just get her back to me in one piece, please.”

Blaine shakes his head. “Oh, but I was asking _you_ to dance,” he clarifies, extending a hand toward him. “So. May I have this dance?”

The man just looks at him for a second, face unreadable, before it breaks into that wide smile again that had first captured Blaine's attention and that he already feels so addicted to. “Oh,” he breathes, blushing a little. “Yes. I suppose.”

He takes Blaine's hand, lets himself be pulled in just as the music starts up again.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the girl making weird signs at her friend, which he doesn't seem to understand any more than Blaine does, judging by the confused look that crosses his face before he turns his attention back toward Blaine and the dance.

Blaine doesn't get many chances to dance with people he actually wants to dance with. He dances with Sam for fun sometimes, but Sam is just a friend. He's danced with Wes a few times, but that was just for practice. But it isn't often that he sees someone, someone at a ball much less, and just feels drawn to him in this way.

“You're a good dancer,” he tells the man, even though it's not necessarily true – he moves well enough, is certainly graceful, but his technique could definitely use some work.

The man grins a little embarrassed grin that is entirely too cute, bites his lip as he lowers his eyes, hand at Blaine's waist flexing a little. “Thank you.”

“I'm sorry – I didn't catch your name earlier,” Blaine says.

“Oh. Kurt.” He shakes his head, blushing dark red. It's adorable. “I mean. I'm Kurt.”

“Kurt,” Blaine repeats. “That's a lovely name.”

Kurt looks at him expectantly for a moment, as if waiting for Blaine to say something. “Well, aren't you going to tell me your name?” he asks eventually, when Blaine just looks back at him.

Blaine messes up his next steps, stepping on Kurt's toes accidentally. “Sorry, I'm sorry,” he apologizes quickly, completely caught off guard by Kurt's question. This has never happened before. He wants to ask, _You are at my seventeenth birthday celebration and don't know my name?_ What he says is: “Blaine. My name is Blaine.”

There is still no sign of recognition on his face when Kurt tells him, “That's a really pretty name too.”

It's Blaine's turn to blush – he's fairly certain by now that Kurt is gay, and he's also fairly certain that Kurt has absolutely no idea who Blaine is. It is an interesting turn of events for sure, and one that Blaine can't say he minds. It's refreshing to be in the company of a handsome young man who doesn't know him. He briefly considers telling Kurt the truth, but, selfishly, decides against it. It's his birthday, after all. And finding this beautiful stranger who doesn't know him in a crowd full of people who have all kinds of expectations – it's the best gift he could have ever asked for.

After the first dance he convinces Kurt to have a second dance with him and then a third – he's well aware that people will notice eventually, he rarely ever dances more than one dance with the same partner, careful to give everyone in the room a chance to be seen with him once, give them a chance to tell their friends later: “I danced with the prince.” It's not like the actual dancing isn't fun for him, he can overlook the intentions of most of his partners.

And Kurt is truly wonderful, lets Blaine lead him around the room, their conversation moving easily from topic to topic as they glide and sometimes stumble their way through their dances.

Still, Blaine knows he'll have to let him go eventually.

So after the third dance, he takes a careful step back, clapping for the orchestra along with everyone else in the ballroom while waiting for the music to start up again. He knows he should make his excuses now, he should go and find someone else to spend a few minutes of his time with.

But then Kurt smiles so gently, his face flushed from the exercise, and what Blaine says instead of goodbye is, “Would you like to maybe get some air?”

Kurt looks surprised for a moment, the smile spreading across his face so bright, so happy, and nods his head. “Yes. I'd like that very much.”

“Good.” Blaine takes his hand so he won't lose him in the crowd, pulls him along as they wind their way through the dancers and toward the opposite end of the room where a small door leads into the gardens. It may be entirely inappropriate to sneak away from his own birthday ball, but right now he doesn't care. Being the prince must have some privileges and he exploits them rarely. Maybe, he thinks, he's entitled to one evening of being just a little irresponsible. Also, it _is_ getting a little stuffy in here and he could really use a few minutes outside. So this will be his birthday present to himself – some time alone with beautiful Kurt.

He stops with Kurt next to the door, turning back to pretend like they're just getting a drink from a passing servant with a tray full of glasses. Blaine does take two glasses off the tray, hands one to Kurt, then slips out the door and pulls Kurt with him when he's sure that no one is paying them any attention at the moment.

There's a small terrace behind the ballroom that leads off into the gardens, a large open space interspersed with slender pillars, roses winding their way up around them. It's beautiful, especially by the soft light spilling from the windows of the room behind them.

Blaine walks a little further between the pillars, hungrily breathing in the fresh spring air. It's a beautiful night, not too cold, but pleasantly cool, and everything here smells like flowers, the faint scents of baking mixed in in the background.

“It's lovely out here,” Kurt breathes, and Blaine looks at him, smiles.

“Lovely,” he repeats, unable to tear his eyes from Kurt's face.

Kurt laughs softly, lowering his head. “Are we supposed to be out here?” he asks. “Won't we get in trouble?”

Blaine takes a step closer, dismissing the concern with a wave of his hand. “It's fine, I assure you. I've – come here before.” It's not a lie. It may be the slightest bit misleading concerning his true identity, but he trusts that it's forgivable, should he ever have cause to reveal himself to Kurt.

“If you're sure, I won't worry.” Kurt glances up at him, his grin almost flirtatious, and Blaine's heart jumps in his chest.

“I won't get you in trouble,” he promises solemnly. “I just want a minute to talk with you alone.”

“Well, I am an excellent conversationalist,” Kurt replies, grin turning teasing.

Blaine laughs. “You are, actually. So, what brings you here tonight?”

Kurt raises an eyebrow at him. “There's a ball going on. I'm sure you've noticed.”

“No, I mean -” Blaine chuckles, rolls his eyes at him, only feeling a little bad for trying to find out about Kurt's identity when he has been keeping his own a secret. “Is this fun or obligation for you?”

Kurt shakes his head firmly. “Fun! _Definitely_ fun. And it has been a nice evening so far, wouldn't you agree?”

Blaine nods emphatically. “Oh, yes, absolutely! So, you know the royal family well?” He knows for a fact that Kurt doesn't, feels just a little bit bad about the deception. But he has to find out more about him, he has to know him.

Kurt blushes, looks away. “No, I -” He sighs. “Not very well, no. I'm here to accompany my friend, Rachel. You met her when you asked me to dance.”

Blaine can't decipher the expression on his face – a blush, a furrowed brow – and for a moment feels bad about keeping Kurt all to himself all night. “Do you need to get back to her? I'm so sorry,” he starts. “I didn't mean to monopolize your time like this -”

“Oh, no,” Kurt assures him quickly. “She'll be fine without me.”

“So, she's -” Blaine hesitates, not sure if he has any right to be asking this. But he needs to know for sure. “She's a friend of yours?” he asks, hoping it sounds innocent enough.

Kurt nods, then his eyes widen as he understands the full meaning of Blaine's question. “Oh! Yes! Yes, just a friend. Definitely. I mean, I love her. But only like a sister. We – grew up together.”

“Then it's really nice of you to accompany her tonight,” Blaine points out. “And definitely lucky for me.”

Kurt shakes his head at him, rolling his eyes in a way that seems almost fond. “You think you're so charming, don't you?”

Blaine pouts. “Do you mean to say that I'm not actually charming?”

Kurt laughs, not answering the question, just scrunching his nose at him with an embarrassed little grin.

“I'm sorry if I seem a little intense,” Blaine apologizes. “I'm just – having a really good time, right now,” he admits.

“I'm having a really good time too,” Kurt assures him.

For a moment, their eyes meet, and Blaine can't speak. Kurt is breathtakingly beautiful. It's everything about him – he's not that much taller than Blaine and yet he seems like it, long-limbed and graceful as he stands there. His eyes are still so clear even in the low light of the lanterns placed around the terrace. He's stunning. “Walk with me?” Blaine asks, more to have something to say than because he feels like moving from this spot.

“All right,” Kurt agrees, offering Blaine his arm in a polite gesture that makes Blaine's breath hitch in his throat.

Usually he's the one having to offer his arm to people – this is a very welcome change of pace. He takes Kurt's arm, walks beside him to the edge of the terrace and out into the small park that is completely deserted while everyone is having fun at the ball.

**

Kurt does feel just a little bit guilty for abandoning Rachel at the ball, but then, how often does he get the chance to dance and talk with a beautiful man who seems interested in him and makes no secret of it? This is his night. This is the only chance he'll ever get at this and he knows it, so he's determined to make the most of it. Once he leaves the ball, he'll never see this man again, of that he is certain. So he'll take what he can get from this night, make memories that will last him a lifetime.

Right now he leans slightly into Blaine as they walk, Blaine's hand securely in the crook of his elbow, Blaine's body warm at his side. It's a perfect night.

“So, you seemed like quite the proficient dancer,” Kurt says. “I assume you had a lot of practice?”

Blaine laughs. “My parents have been making me go to balls like this one since I was very young. After a while, you start picking up a few things.” He nudges Kurt's shoulder with his own. “What about you?”

“Oh. No.” Kurt plucks a leaf from a hedge in passing with his free hand, rubs it between his fingers. “I haven't been to very many balls. I'm sure you could tell. I -” He isn't really sure how to explain – it's not like he can tell Blaine that he usually spends his days in a blacksmith's shop.

“Don't like parties?” Blaine suggests.

Kurt nods, grateful. “That's it, yes. I mean, I do enjoy dancing. It's just – the crowds of people, you know? But I do enjoy the music ...” He can't suppress the smile, feet skipping just a little at the memory of the wonderful, wonderful dance...

“I love music so much,” Blaine sighs. “If I could choose a profession, I'd join the orchestra. Or become a traveling singer.”

Kurt looks at his profile, the softness of his face in the half-darkness of the empty park. “You sing?”

“I love to sing,” Blaine confirms. “My friend Wes sometimes calls me Warbler Blaine. Just to tease me. I tend to sing under my breath without noticing sometimes.”

The smile just takes over Kurt's face and he leans into Blaine a little more, the comfort of finding a kindred spirit. “I do that too,” he tells Blaine. “I've had to endure more than a little teasing for it.”

“Oh, but no one should tease you for your love of music,” Blaine says, sounding truly shocked. “The next time we meet, we must attempt a duet. Promise me!”

Kurt looks away, biting the inside of his cheek before nodding slowly. “I promise.” There's no harm in making a promise like this one – it's not like he expects to ever be crossing paths with Blaine again after tonight.

**

They're sitting on a bench at the edge of the terrace, close enough together that their thighs are touching. Kurt looks at Blaine, just watches and listens as Blaine tells him about the time he was six and hadn't been allowed to go to a ball and had therefore broken into his brother's rooms as soon as his parents were gone and stolen some of his finer clothes and spent the night dancing by himself in his brother's suite, wearing a suit that was twice his size and tripping over the pants legs all the time.

“It took my poor nanny over an hour to find me,” he says, smiling at the memory. “She must have been worried sick when I wasn't in my room. I don't think she ever told my parents, though.”

“What did she do?” Kurt asks.

Blaine shrugs. “Told me off for stealing my brother's clothes and scaring her half to death. And then she taught me how to waltz.”

“She sounds wonderful,” Kurt admits.

Blaine nods. “She still lives with us even if neither my brother nor I need her anymore. But I like having her near.”

“I can imagine,” Kurt says. “Did your brother ever find out? About the clothes?”

Blaine shakes his head. “He never said.” He sighs. “They were beautiful clothes. And, you know, I was six. I didn't have very many beautiful things of my own to wear. I do now. That has certainly changed. But my love for beautiful things has stayed the same.”

Kurt nods, only hesitating very briefly. He's never talked about this with anyone. But telling Blaine is safe. “I draw,” he says, then laughs a little embarrassed laugh. “You know. Clothes mostly. Whenever I think of something that I wish I'd – something I'd like to see. And other things too. But mostly clothes. I know.” He blushes, looks away. “It's silly.”

“That's not silly,” Blaine says, taking his hand, and Kurt can feel him staring at him, eventually has no choice but to turn his head, meet his eyes. “That's amazing, Kurt. I'd love to see your drawings one day.”

Kurt shakes his head. “I've never shown them to anyone before.”

“But why not?” Blaine wants to know.

Kurt shrugs. “What's the point? They're just silly little things I like to pass the time with.”

“I'm sure they're not. And the point is,” Blaine says, “That there can never be too many beautiful things in the world. And beauty should be shared.”

Kurt thinks about it. “If we ever meet again,” he says, “I'll let you see them. I promise.”

Blaine smiles at him so brightly it almost breaks his heart to remember that there won't be a next time.

**

They're back on the terrace, walking in between the pillars with Kurt's hand on Blaine's arm this time.

“I really do feel bad for monopolizing you this much,” Blaine says, laughing. “Are you sure your friend won't miss you?”

Kurt shakes his head. “It's fine. What time is it anyway?”

Blaine shrugs. “It must be close to midnight by now. We've been out here for a while.”

“It didn't seem that long,” Kurt whispers, speaking the truth. He could spend hours, days, years in Blaine's company and he doesn't think he'd ever get bored.

Blaine stops, turning to look at him. “It really didn't,” he confirms. “Why does time go by so fast when you're enjoying yourself?”

Kurt reaches out, touching a careful hand to Blaine's shoulder. He's so … real. Warm. Beautiful. Perfect. “I really don't know,” he replies. “But I really enjoyed this too. A lot.”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, just that one word, and it sounds like a promise.

“I, um.” Kurt looks down, not sure how far he wants to let this go tonight. He feels bad enough for deceiving Blaine, for knowing he can never see him again after tonight – but he's quite sure that Blaine will be fine even after he's left. Blaine has his beautiful life with all of his beautiful friends, it's not like Kurt would actually be capable of breaking his heart.

“I could get us drinks and we could stay out here for a few more minutes?” Blaine suggests, sounding so hopeful.

Kurt nods. “I – yes. Yes, that sounds – good.”

“All right.” Blaine takes a careful step closer, one hand tentatively reaching for Kurt's. “I just -” He bites his lip, then quickly rises onto his toes, leaning in until Kurt can feel the light caress of his breath against his face, his warmth so very close to him. Slowly, carefully, Blaine inches forward, his lips brushing Kurt's in a soft, gentle kiss.

It's just a quick, soft pressure of Blaine's mouth against his, warm and wet and gone again in a moment. It's Kurt's first ever kiss. It's – perfect.

“I'll be right back,” Blaine whispers, giving his hand one more gentle squeeze before he hurries off, a stunned, happy smile on his face.

Kurt stands very still, slowly raising a hand to touch his fingers to his lips, eyes wide. Blaine just kissed him. He just received his very first kiss and his heart is beating so hard and he feels light enough to fly and he doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry or dance with his arms stretched out to the sides with joy as his skin still tingles with the memory of Blaine, the taste of him.

He's jolted out of the moment when someone loudly whispers his name from the shadows of the pillars a few feet away. He turns, sees Rachel and Santana standing there, Rachel waving him over urgently.

“Kurt,” she repeats, voice rising a little.

Kurt hurries over, head still swimming with the rush of emotions swirling around in his chest, the thought of Blaine and everything that happened between them. “Rachel.”

She smiles at him. “I'm so sorry for interrupting. I just – are you having fun? You're having a good time, right?”

Kurt closes his eyes, smiles, nods his head slowly. “I want to go home.”

“What?” Rachel stares at him wide-eyed as he opens his eyes again to look at her. “But – why?”

He shrugs. “It's getting late. We need to be home before anyone notices.”

“You're right.” Her expression goes serious, lips pressed together, and she turns toward Santana. “Are you and Britt -”

“We're staying a while,” Santana says. “But, really Hummel, you're at the ball five minutes and immediately land the one man everyone is swooning over.” She slaps his shoulder. “I didn't know you had it in you. I'm almost proud of you.” And with that, she walks off.

“Do you want to say goodbye to him?” Rachel asks.

Kurt shakes his head firmly. “If I never say it, maybe it will feel like the night is not really over.” he smiles sadly. “We should – before he gets back.”

“Right. This way,” Rachel says, motioning for him to follow.

They're in the carriage and rolling away toward the village before Kurt remembers what Santana had said. “Rachel?” he asks. “What did Santana mean by calling Blaine the one man everyone swoons over?”

Rachel just stares at him. “Kurt, you know who Blaine is, right?”

“Someone rich?” Kurt guesses. “I'm sorry, Rachel, you and Santana are really the only nobles I've ever known personally. And Brittany, but she's -”

“Kurt,” Rachel interrupts. “Your Blaine? The one who kissed you not half an hour ago? That was the prince. That was his birthday ball we just attended.”

Kurt slumps back in his seat, turning his head to look out the window. “Oh.” He expects this new piece of information to change the way he remembers tonight – he danced with the prince. He took a walk in the gardens with the prince. He was kissed by the prince.

It doesn't change anything. In his memory, he's still just Blaine – a sweet, wonderful, handsome man, who took his hand and danced with him. It doesn't matter how _far_ he's out of his league. It doesn't matter who he is.

It all feels a bit like a dream and yet he knows it was real – and he's so glad that his friends made this night possible for him. He's so glad he got to meet Blaine, regardless of what happens next. Which is him going back to his small village where he'll live his small life. At least he'll be surrounded by friends who love him enough to do this for him. And that's a good thought.

He keeps looking out the small window of the carriage and recalls every moment of the night in as much detail as he can. He knows he'll do his best to draw a picture of Blaine's face as best as he can manage as soon as he's home – he'll have to return the suit and he just needs something to remember this night by. Not that he thinks he'll ever be able to forget it anyway, he can already feel the sweet ache of the memory settle deep in his bones.

Maybe he just wants his fingers to follow the contours of Blaine's face the way his gaze did all night. Maybe he just wants to something nice to look at once he's definitely, finally back where he belongs.

Maybe he just wants to make sure he'll always have a part of this night with him to remember it whenever he needs it.

So he keeps looking out of the window and remembers what it had felt like, going to a ball, meeting a beautiful boy, meeting _Blaine_. Dancing with Blaine, being kissed by Blaine.

He's glad he didn't say goodbye. He's not sure that he could have.


	3. Chapter 3

All Blaine wants is to get back outside as soon as possible – kissing Kurt may have been an impulse, but not one he regrets. He can't believe he did it, can't believe how good it felt – he's dreamed of his first kiss for so long, and to share it on such a beautiful night with the most stunning man he's ever met in his life – Blaine cannot believe his luck.

Kurt is amazing. They've been talking for hours and Blaine has to admit that he's more than a little smitten. Kurt is so breathtakingly beautiful inside and out, so fascinating, so smart and kind and gentle – all those nights Blaine had lain awake trying to picture the perfect man, the kind of man he could fall in love with, and now he thinks he might have finally met him. There's a spark there for sure; he's not just imagining it. Kurt had kissed him back.

And really, all Blaine wants is to get back to him, but he has to shake a few hands, be charming enough to a few people that they won't be offended by not being asked to dance. And then he has to slip out quietly, fresh drinks in his hand, while no one else is looking.

The terrace is deserted, there's no sign of Kurt.

Blaine stops, spins around in a circle, eyes scanning his surroundings – he seems to be completely alone out here.

“Kurt?” he says, as loudly as he dares. And then, because it's unlikely that anyone will hear him above the sound of the music from inside, a bit louder. “Kurt?”

He puts the drinks down on the nearest bench, starts hurrying between the pillars in the direction of the garden, hoping that maybe Kurt just went back there for another stroll.

He searches for at least half an hour, growing increasingly desperate and discouraged the longer it takes, the clearer it becomes that Kurt has left.

Finally, he gives up, sitting down heavily on a bench near the edge of the terrace. He's not here anymore. And Blaine leans forward, elbows propped on his knees, dropping his forehead into his hands. He has no idea what happened.

Was it something he said? Something he did?

Because unless he had completely misinterpreted everything going on between them, Kurt had liked their kiss. Blaine hopes he hasn't just imagined that. He hopes he hasn't driven Kurt away. He couldn't live with himself, if that were the case.

He sits for another few minutes, then finally stands, and with a sigh straightens his clothes, runs a hand carefully over his hair. The ball will be drawing to a close. And he has to make an appearance for at least a few more minutes, it is his birthday celebration, after all.

And it has been a good birthday, he thinks, walking back inside.

He's met someone amazing, someone wonderful. And he has no idea where he went, but he makes up his mind, right here and now, to find him again. He'll find him and when he does, he won't ever lose him again.

**

“You're quiet.”

Kurt looks up from where he's sitting at the kitchen table, pushing his breakfast around on his plate. “No, I'm just -”

“Are you okay?” his dad asks, falling into his own chair and fixing Kurt with a concerned look. “You've been all quiet for days now.”

Kurt sighs. “It's nothing.”

Burt frowns. “Is it that baker's boy again? Finn said he pushes you around -”

“I'm fine,” Kurt snaps, closing his eyes to reign in the feelings before opening them again to smile at his father. “Sorry. I'm okay. I promise.” He just really doesn't need Finn walking around worrying his dad with stories of how the bullies in the village have it in for him. His dad has enough to worry about as it is.

“You know you can talk to me, don't you?” his dad asks.

Kurt nods, attempts a smile. Yes, he does know. The thing is, what would he even say? That he's been to a ball in beautiful clothes and danced in a brightly lit ballroom to the most wonderful music he's ever heard? That he met a boy, a perfect, handsome, polite, beautiful boy who placed his hand in the crook of his elbow as they walked through the palace gardens together? A sweet and funny boy who loves music and has a laugh so pretty Kurt wants to listen to it forever? A gentle and amazing boy who held his hand and kissed him in the soft light of a dozen lanterns, surrounded by the smell of flowers? He can't tell his dad that he fell in love in one night, that there's a new drawing in the secret box under his bed of a face he remembers so well he sees it every time he closes his eyes.

He cannot talk about any of these things. But they're all he can think about.

That night – he knew from the start he'd carry the memory with him forever. However, he had not expected it to … change him this much. Because ever since he got back, he feels like a new person, like he sees the world differently. He sees himself differently.

There are things he has to accept – that ball was a one time thing. He is never going to be a regular at these events, that's just not his path in life. He'll have to stay in his village and he'll have to be content with the life he's been given. But he feels hungry after the glimpse of the world he got for just that one night, and … he has been thinking. He has been slowly but surely making some decisions.

Because the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that there are indeed some things that he does have the power to change.

He can stop being a blacksmith. Technically, he's still an apprentice, but the plan had always been for him to take over his father's shop eventually. However, there is still Finn who can fill that role. His father has more or less adopted him as a second son anyway, and not just because he gets along increasingly well with the widow Hudson, Finn's mother. Kurt thinks that his dad might actually be fine with him changing professions; he knows his dad wants him to be happy.

Kurt has spent entire nights looking at the drawings in his box, running his hands over the neck ties he's made of the pieces of fabric Rachel had given him. And he's trying to work up the courage to go and visit Ms Wright, the clothier and ask to be her apprentice. Kurt knows he is a bit old to start over completely, but he knows that Ms Wright is looking for an apprentice, so he's pretty sure he has a decent chance at the position. And he already has some skills, after all, and an ever greater hunger to learn more. He knows he should, at the very least, try.

Among the things he can't change is the fact that he will never have a family of his own unless people in the village change their minds about what is right and what is wrong. Even if he ever found someone, Kurt thinks he couldn't live with himself making anyone else as much of a target as he is. Besides, after that wonderful night, he's not sure he could ever find anyone who'd measure up to Blaine anyway. So Kurt will not get married. He knows he won't, not unless things change significantly. But he can still choose to be happy. He has friends, he is not going to be alone.

“Are you ready to go to work?” his dad asks, still looking concerned.

Kurt nods. “Yes. I am.” He just has to find the courage to tell his father that he doesn't actually want to be a blacksmith.

**

Over the next few months, Blaine attends every public event his parents tell him to without complaint. He knows it confuses them, since in the past he had always put up a fight if they became too frequent, preferring to spend his time with Sam at the stables or even his friends Wes and David, even if their _manners_ sometimes drive him up the wall. It is better when Thad and Trent join them as well, because while the two of them are very fond of manners and formality as well, they do remember to just be boys on occasion.

So Blaine knows that his seemingly new-found love for public events must be confusing to his parents. However, he lets them think what they want. It's not like he's never been interested in politics, he can just blame it all on wanting to learn. And, after all, even faking an interest in a hundred different potential dance partners at a ball is good practice for politics.

The truth of why Blaine is suddenly eager to be seen in public is not at all that he wants to be seen, though – it's that he's hoping to _see_ someone. To _find_ someone. Because yes, he is looking for Kurt. He is looking for him everywhere, in every crowd of people he comes across. He simply cannot stop thinking about him – the more time passes the more he feels like he should be getting discouraged, but he just wants to find him even more. He still sees his face so very clearly every time he closes his eyes – his lovely, wonderful face. He needs to find him. He needs to know why he disappeared, at least. He can't live with not knowing.

Because he's sure that the kiss hadn't scared him away. He's sure that, in that moment, Kurt had wanted it as much as he had. So there must be some other explanation. And Blaine is determined to find out. Because whatever it is, whatever made Kurt leave, he's sure that they can work through it, that they can have a shot at happiness regardless.

He needs to believe that. Not seeing him ever again is simply not an option he is willing to consider. And Blaine is stubborn. He'll see Kurt again. He knows he will.

“Are you all right?” Sam asks, jolting him from his thoughts.

He looks up at his friend, smiling. “I'm fine.”

“You've been quiet for weeks. You rarely ever come to visit anymore. You don't seem fine,” Sam points out.

It is true, Blaine's numerous social duties have left him little time to visit the stables and his best friend. “I'm sorry for abandoning you like that,” he says. “It was not my intention. I will try to come by more often again, I've just been busy -”

“I'm not trying to make you feel bad.” Sam holds up a hand, shaking his head. “I just worry about you.”

“That's very nice of you,” Blaine says, sighing. “But there's really no need.”

Sam nods slowly. “You're still thinking about that man you met at the ball, aren't you?”

Blaine laughs. “I attend a lot of balls, Sam.”

“I meant the one for your birthday, you know that.” Sam punches his shoulder affectionately. “You talked about nothing but him for days afterward. And you've been attending every ball after that when you always came to me complaining about how pointless most of them were before – You're still hoping to see him again, aren't you?”

Blaine sighs, hiding his face behind his hands. “It is true. I know it's silly, but I just – can't forget him.”

“With all due respect, your highness,” Sam says, grinning because he hasn't addressed Blaine this formally in years, “It seems to me as if you're in love.”

Blaine frowns, thinking about it. He hasn't bothered putting a name to what he is feeling, filing it away under 'attraction' since surely that's enough of an explanation to justify his slight obsession with finding Kurt again. “Do you think so?”

Sam raises an eyebrow at him. “You don't?”

He shrugs, an embarrassed blush spreading across his cheeks. “It's possible.”

“It's about time,” Sam teases. “All those good-looking men in your life, it took you long enough to finally lose your heart to one of them.”

Blaine laughs. “You're forgetting the time I made a complete fool of myself singing underneath the window of Lord Jeremiah from the North Hills delegation.”

Sam dismisses it with a wave of his hand. “That doesn't count. You were never in love with him. You just thought that you were.”

Blaine smiles at his friend. “You could have told me that before I went ahead and embarrassed myself so thoroughly.”

“I tried,” Sam cries, waving his arms dramatically. “There was no talking to you. You were determined!”

“I was.” Blaine sighs. “But you are right, my feelings for him were very different from my feelings for Kurt. I know I have only spent very little time with Kurt, but – I just like him so much, Sam.” His shoulders slump as he frowns unhappily. “You should have seen him. He was … beautiful.”

Sam claps his shoulder affectionately. “Don't give up, Blaine,” he encourages him. “He's still out there somewhere.”

Blaine nods, lowering his head. No, he's not giving up. It's just that – it's been months and he hasn't been making any progress either.

**

“But you are sure that you didn't meet anyone named Kurt there?” Blaine asks Wes for the tenth time, walking beside him through the parks behind the palace where they are supposed to meet David, Thad, and Trent. Wes has returned from a journey to the county of Columbus where he met with his betrothed – he is to get married in a few short months.

Wes frowns. “I told you, Blaine, no one of that name crossed my path. What makes you even think he is from that county?”

Blaine sighs. “I don't know if he is really from there. But he must be from somewhere. I know I am grasping at straws, but it's been so long and no one I ask has even heard his name.”

“It would help if you knew his family, at least,” Wes points out. “I cannot believe your oversight, you should have known -”

“Wes, I had no idea he was just going to disappear on me,” Blaine points out. “I assure you, I had no intention of letting him go without some way of contacting him again.” He frowns, angry at himself. “If only I could remember the name of the girl who accompanied him, I am sure I've seen her before. But she hasn't been to another one of our balls since either.”

“Look, Blaine.” Wes stops, placing a careful hand on his shoulder, meeting his eyes. “I don't mean to tell you what to do. But it's been more than five months since the ball, and there hasn't been so much as a sign of him. Maybe at some point, you'll have to consider letting it go. Find someone who actually wants to be with you. Because -” He shakes his head sadly, concern visible in his eyes. “It pains me to say this, but I believe it to be my duty as a friend. You know that he could have made an effort finding you too. And everyone knows you're the prince. It's not like he doesn't know how to find you. So maybe you should consider the fact that he isn't as interested in you as you are in him.”

Blaine shakes his head firmly, he doesn't even have to think about Wes's words. “No. You haven't met him. You weren't there that night. I know we had a connection, and I could tell that he felt it too. It was -” He stops, trying to pick his next words carefully so his friend will understand. “It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. And I don't think it could ever be the same with anyone else. We – he and I – it just seemed right. Do you know what I mean?”

Wes still looks concerned. “I just don't want you to get hurt, Blaine,” he says. “And I worry about you. You've spent a few hours with him half a year ago, this obsession isn't healthy. Besides, imagine you find him again and he still turns you down -”

“He won't.” Blaine hopes he won't. He honestly doesn't know what he'd do. But - “I don't know what's keeping him away, but he must have a good reason,” he explains.

“I just hope you're right,” Wes sighs.

Blaine gives him a pleading look. “I can't help it,” he says. “I have to hope. Please be my friend in this, Wes? Please believe with me?”

Wes smiles at him, shrugs his shoulders. “Of course. You know I just want you to be happy.”

“Thank you,” Blaine says sincerely, walking on with his friend beside him.

**

It comes as a bit of a shock when Cooper takes him aside one day as he's on his way to meet Sam, looking more serious than Blaine has ever seen him, and tells him he doesn't want to be king.

“But you're heir to the throne,” Blaine says, doesn't understand.

Cooper lowers his eyes, sighs. “I know. But I don't want to be. I've never wanted it.”

“You could have said something sooner,” Blaine suggests, swallowing heavily.

Cooper shakes his head. “I didn't know how. Look, little brother, I haven't even talked about this with our parents yet. And I know this is unfair to you and you have probably imagined your life differently, and I'm not going to make you step up if you don't want to. It's my responsibility and I get that. I'm just letting you know that I have no interest in the throne and I'd give it to you if you wanted it.”

Blaine looks at him, really looks. And remembers how happy Cooper used to be before his father started taking him along to meetings and on trips and got him a tutor. Cooper doesn't look like he's enjoying life anymore, he has never been one to sit still and study and listen and make decisions. “So, not becoming king would make you happy?” Blaine asks.

Cooper nods. “Yes. I've been trying, you know I have. But I just -”

“I know,” Blaine interrupts. “I know. Can I think about this before you talk to father?”

“Of course.” Cooper hugs him, something he hasn't done in years. “Thank you, little brother.”

“I haven't said yes yet,” Blaine reminds him.

Cooper ruffles his hair, gives him a look that seems to say, _No, but I know that you will_.

Blaine sighs. He knows too. He just can't stand seeing others unhappy.

In the end, he makes his decision within a week. Cooper is relieved, their father is shocked but accommodating, their mother smiles like she had always known this would happen. Cooper, free of his responsibilities, decides to travel for a while to celebrate his new-found freedom. Blaine gets a tutor and starts attending meetings with his father's counselors, on top of all of his other social responsibilities – he still attends every ball and social gathering he can fit into his schedule. He hasn't given up on finding Kurt yet. He thinks he never will. More than ever, it seems vital that he sees him again, with everything else in his life changing faster than he can blink, he clings to this one hope for himself.

However, even that part of his life gets completely thrown off track when his father takes him aside one day to talk to him.

“If you're going to be king, you'll need to get married, and soon,” he tells him.

“But Cooper wasn't -”

“He was going to choose a bride within the year,” his father tells him. “I'm still going to step down next year. My plans haven't changed. I'm not getting any younger and this kingdom deserves the leadership of someone who actually has the energy and youth for it. And your people will expect you to be married before you take the throne.”

Blaine nods, attempts a smile, but his heart is sinking quickly. Why hadn't Cooper told him about this? He thought he'd have more time, more time to – find the only person he even wants to marry. But now he has an ultimatum and there's only still one face that comes to his mind whenever he even thinks of kissing anyone, being with anyone; and he hasn't even considered sharing his entire life with anyone, he's just not sure that he's ready for this. “All right,” he tells his father. “I'll think about it.”

“You should do more than think,” his father laughs, slapping his shoulder like it's an excellent joke. “You should _find_ someone.”

Blaine loves his father and knows that his father loves him. But he's just not sure he'd understand. He isn't sure he understands it himself.

“You know it's not going to be a girl, don't you?” Blaine says, quietly, needing to make sure.

His father nods, expression turning serious. “You know that's going to be difficult for you, don't you?” he replies. “Not everyone will like the thought of having two kings.”

“I can't live a lie my entire life,” Blaine says, desperate.

His father puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezes reassuringly. “I know, Blaine. I know. I'm just saying, you should know what you're getting yourself into. Just because something is legal doesn't make it popular.”

After this conversation, he redoubles his efforts to find Kurt. He barely sleeps anymore, spends all his time he isn't studying or following his father around with making visits to all the estates within traveling distance, casually dropping Kurt's name in every conversation he has. No one seems to have ever heard of him.

Lady Santana squints his eyes at him, but when he asks her directly if she knows anyone named Kurt, she declines. It's the only time he ever even gets a reaction out of anyone, almost ten months after the ball where he met Kurt, and even that doesn't seem to help or get him any closer to finding him.

He cries all the way home that night. It's been almost a year since he's seen him. Maybe it's stupid to make his future happiness depend solely on that one night. But he can't help it. He cannot move on before he has at least talked to him one more time. He's not even sure anymore what this is about – he's not sure whether this is really about Kurt anymore or about the constant pressure he's under. Pressure to be the perfect prince, the perfect son, to _represent_. Kurt is a symbol of hope to him. A symbol of a perfect night where he was none of those things and still wanted. He just wants to feel like that again. One more time, at least. Even if Kurt doesn't want him, he needs to know that before he can even think of moving on.

Maybe Wes is right. Maybe it has become an obsession. But he doesn't care. He still needs to find him. There's simply no other way.

**

Kurt sits in the library with Rachel, sipping his tea, lost in thought. His apprenticeship is going well, he's already happier than he used to be, and that's saying something since he gets pushed in the lake even more than he used to and has started storing spare clothes at work since Karofsky's newest pastime is throwing horse manure at him when he's walking down the street. But still, at least he's doing something that he loves by working with Ms Wright, who just last week asked him to call her Isabelle. She's become a friend as well as a mentor and his life is brighter now that he does something he loves.

There are just moments in his life where he feels like something is missing, like some _one_ is missing. It's not that he's pining, he is not. But still he has countless drawings of one specific face in the box under his bed – he just really appreciates beautiful things. And he can't stop thinking of or drawing the most beautiful face he had ever seen in his life. And if he is to be alone for the rest of his days anyway, he doesn't see the harm in dreaming of someone he can never have. Someone like the prince, who danced with him once and kissed him in a garden that smelled of flowers.

“Santana came over the other day,” Rachel tells him, and he looks up.

“She comes over all the time.”

“Yes, but -” Rachel grins like she has a great secret. “She's had a visitor the previous day. Someone you know.”

“Who was it?” Kurt asks, trying to sound interested. All of the gossip he picks up in his conversations with Rachel has started to be less and less appealing. He's not entirely sure why.

Rachel pauses for dramatic effect, making sure he's listening before she speaks again. “The prince.”

“Blaine?” Kurt breathes, then clears his throat. Suddenly, he _is_ interested. He can't deny it. “That's nice of him.”

Rachel leans forward in her seat. “Kurt, he's looking for you!”

He almost drops his tea cup, feels himself go pale. “ … What?”

Rachel nods. “Santana says he was fidgety the entire time, visited under the pretense of a social call, but then really awkwardly brought up your name and asked if she knew anyone named Kurt.”

“What did she say?” he wants to know, not sure which outcome he'd like better.

“She said she didn't know you, since she didn't know what you wanted her to say. But she said he looked like a kicked puppy and left soon after.”

Kurt sits very straight in his chair, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself. “Rachel, what should I do?”

She pats his hand. “I don't know, sweetheart. I'm just sorry I wasn't here when he visited my fathers. They have no idea you went to the ball with me and didn't even connect the name Kurt with you when he asked. They just assumed he was talking about someone else.”

“He asked your parents about me too?” Kurt thinks he's going to faint; surely this must be a dream.

Rachel smiles at him. “I asked them after Santana talked to me. Kurt, do you want him to know who you are? We _could_ get a message to him.”

Kurt shakes his head. He needs time to process all of this. “I don't know,” he admits. “Rachel, I just don't know. I can't stop thinking about him.”

“I know.”

“What am I going to do? He's the prince! I get pushed in the frozen lake and have people throw horse shit at me. I can't -”

“He likes you,” Rachel says, taking his hand in her own smaller one. “I don't think he'd even care where you came from.”

“I like him so much, Rachel,” Kurt breathes. “I'm scared.”

“I know you are,” she says. “I know. But, look, we don't have to decide anything right now. He's going to throw another ball for his birthday in two weeks. He's turning eighteen. Word is that he's going to choose his spouse at the ball. If you want, we can sneak you in, it worked once before!”

“He's going to get married?” Kurt says, throat tight with an emotion he can't define.

“Maybe he's just waiting for you,” Rachel teases.

Kurt lets out a bitter laugh. “I'm a blacksmith's son. I'm hardly a good match for our future king.”

Rachel tilts her head at him. “Don't be so sure, Kurt. The world is changing! I don't want you to give up hope without even having tried at all. Besides. You're wonderful. The prince would be lucky to marry you.”

He nods, a single tear finally rolling down his cheek. He knows he has to go to the ball. He needs to see him again. Even if it's just one more time. Now that he knows that Blaine is looking for him, he has to know why.

He closes his eyes and remembers how it had felt to dance with him, and wishes he knew what to do. Because he still has no idea.


	4. Chapter 4

The preparations for the ball and his eighteenth birthday are keeping Blaine from going out much during the month before the celebration. And he still hasn't found his Kurt, he still isn't even a step closer to finding out who he really is. And it seems as if he's never going to. He knows he should resign himself to that fact, but it is difficult.

So he attends his meetings, studies for his lessons, and acts like the dutiful son that he is, all the while dreaming of meeting Kurt again.

With the evening of the ball and his eighteenth birthday drawing nearer, he knows he should finally bring up the fact that he's not going to marry anyone just now because he's pretty sure he's in love with someone he's met for three hours and hasn't seen in a year, which sounds crazy even to his own ears. So he keeps his mouth shut, feels miserable and alone instead.

Maybe, he thinks, he'll be able to get away with not getting married at all. He doesn't have much interest in it, he doesn't really see the point of promising to spend his entire life with a stranger with whom he might not even have anything in common. He talks it over with Wes, who laughs at him and talks about tradition and reminds him that his own parents hadn't known each other before their marriage and love each other dearly now.

Next, he talks it over with Sam who is a little more on his side in these matters – which may have something to do with the fact that he's newly in love too. Blaine has been trying to find out about the object of his affection, but Sam is secretive about it, so all he knows is that she's a musician and her name is Mercedes. And apparently she doesn't even know Sam exists just yet.

But no matter how much Blaine talks it over with his friends, the fact remains that the ball is only a few weeks away and he'll have to make a choice. It weighs heavily on his mind to the point where he's barely able to eat and sleep and has trouble focusing during his lessons. But still he cannot bring himself to make a decision one way or another.

**

There are certain perks to being a clothier's apprentice, as Kurt soon finds out – for example the fact that he now has the necessary tools and equipment to actually make the clothes he dreams of as long as Rachel follows through on her offer of getting him the required fabrics. He doesn't know how he's ever going to pay her back, but she seems unconcerned, and he really is excited about his project.

The ball itself and the plan to sneak in once more are rather nerve-wracking. That's why he's all the more grateful to have distraction – he's drawn his suit for the ball himself and he's been working on it for the past few days, sitting in his room every day after work and sewing until the candle light is no longer enough to see by. He wants to look his best. And he wants to be comfortable. Also, if he's being quite honest, he wants to impress Blaine, should they have the chance to meet again and to talk.

He is incredibly nervous, especially remembering the way he had left the last time. He knows it had been rude, he hadn't even said goodbye. After Blaine had neglected his guests for the entire night just to spend time with him, Kurt had just disappeared without so much as a word and he really doesn't know how to apologize for that should he be given the chance. Of course he hadn't known that Blaine was the prince at that point. But he doesn't think that actually counts as an excuse. Leaving without saying goodbye was rude no matter who Blaine actually turned out to be.

So, both Santana and Rachel are insisting that the prince has been asking around about him, but he still doesn't know for what reason. What if it doesn't mean at all what Kurt's hopeful little heart wants it to mean? What if Blaine doesn't think as fondly of their evening as Kurt does?

But it is no use worrying about any of that right now. His mind is made up. Right now, he just has to get his clothes ready and try not to let anything show, no matter how much he's trembling with anticipation at almost all times of day and night. No one can know what he's about to do, no one but his tight little circle of friends who also helped him last time. His father will never have to find out about this. Kurt would prefer it if he didn't; partly because he's afraid he'd talk him out of it. And he really does feel like he has to go. But also partly because he never wants his father to feel like the life he's living isn't enough for Kurt, like his own son is dreaming of bigger and better things or in some way ashamed of where he comes from. He never wants his father to think that. So he can never ever know about any of this, and Kurt keeps working on his clothes in secret, hiding them under his bed before he leaves the house every day.

**

They are in the same carriage they were in a year ago, Rachel is by his side the way she was a year ago. This time, Kurt knows to help her out of the carriage, to offer his arm to her when they walk inside. Everything is as beautiful as he remembers, the palace, the people, the music. But this time, he's wearing the clothes he made for himself instead of the clothes that Puck “borrowed” for him. This time, he only stops and stares for a few minutes before he remembers to ask Rachel to dance – he does want to enjoy the night even if he's here for a very specific purpose.

He needs to find Blaine, but he knows he should give Rachel this one dance as a thank you for helping him, for being on his side, for making this possible for him in the first place. She really has been a great friend to him through all of this; if it wasn't for her, he would never have had his one night with Blaine, that one night that made him see so clearly what was missing in his life and what he needed to do in order to be happy.

He also learned that night that there are things he won't have, things he'll never have. But that's also why he's here tonight, to catch a glimpse of something his heart desires so deeply for one last time. To catch one last glimpse of Blaine before they can never see each other ever again. Before he'll lose even the dream of him forever.

**

Blaine has greeted his guests and danced with some of the ladies his parents had insisted on, he has made small talk and put on a smile and done his best to seem nice, to seem happy. He's restless on the inside, a painful, deep sadness resting in the space where hope used to be. This is his last chance to find him again and even if it's not really late yet, the ball has only just started, he just gets sadder and more hopeless with every minute that ticks by without the sight of his lovely face.

But then the crowd parts and the music stops for a minute while the musicians prepare for the next piece and he catches sight of a head of carefully styled brown hair; hears, just for a second, the sound of a gentle, melodious voice, the very voice he's been dreaming of every night for the past year. And it's just as beautiful as he remembers.

His heart jumps painfully in his chest, hope so piercing sharp jolting through him, he takes a hasty step forward, stopping mid-bow in front of the guy he was asking to dance.

He threads his way through the crowd of dancers quickly, almost rudely when they don't part quickly enough, eyes scanning faces until – he sees him. He sees _him_. Finally, _finally_ , he sees him.

He's deep in conversation with the girl on his arm, frowning as if he's worried or sad, steps into position and offers his hand to her as the music starts up again.

Blaine takes a few quick steps, taps his shoulder just as Kurt and the girl are about to take their first steps as the dance begins.

“Excuse me,” Blaine says, heart hammering louder than the music and Kurt turns around, his face lighting up in a mix of confusion and delight as he sees him. “May I have this dance?”

Kurt opens and closes his mouth a few times, blushes, lowers his eyes. Then he looks back up again, and there's a warmth in his eyes that takes Blaine's breath away. “Yes. Yes, you may.”

**

Kurt can't believe it – the second dance at the ball and not only has he already accomplished what he came here for, but it was actually Blaine who found him first, who asked him to dance, who is now leading him across the dance floor without taking his eyes off of him for even a second. They're more stumbling than dancing anyway, neither of them paying much attention to what their feet are doing as they're too busy looking into each other's eyes.

Kurt knows Blaine had been looking for him. He just doesn't know why. But now, holding him in his arms again and seeing the open adoration in his gaze, there is hope blossoming in his chest at last, hope that maybe Blaine was as affected by their one perfect night as he himself had been.

“You're here,” Blaine finally says.

Kurt nods. “I am.” He doesn't know what else to say.

“You weren't at any of the other balls,” Blaine goes on. “I was looking for you. Hoping to see you again. But you were nowhere to be found.”

Kurt bites his lip, unsure what to say. “I apologize,” he says. “I couldn't – I didn't know.”

“Did you not want to see me again?” Blaine asks, careful as if he's afraid of the answer.

Kurt shakes his head, tightening his grip on Blaine's hand reassuringly. “It is the only reason I'm here tonight,” he admits. “I wanted to see you one more time. Please forgive me for being so honest. But you've been on my mind a lot this past year. I hoped you weren't upset by my sudden disappearance the last time.”

Blaine steps closer, clings a little tighter. “Just don't do it again, please?”

Kurt sighs. “I'll say goodbye this time,” he promises. “I told you. It's the reason I'm here. To finally say it. I apologize that I didn't say it last time.”

Blaine stops dancing, takes a step back. “Would you like to get some air?”

“Excuse me?” Kurt stops too, doesn't understand.

“I'd like to talk with you,” Blaine explains. “We could go to the terrace where we spoke last time. If you want.”

Kurt hesitates, torn between wanting to get a little more time with Blaine and wanting to make this as painless as possible. Any time spent in private will just make it harder to leave him when the time comes. “Fine,” he agrees finally. “Lead the way.” And after a second's hesitation, he adds, “My prince.”

Blaine blushes, puts a hand on Kurt's arm to lead him. “So you figured out who I am after all.”

“I apologize for my ignorance last time we met. I hope I didn't offend you.”

Blaine looks at him. “On the contrary. You enchanted me.”

Kurt feels himself blush, feels a little sick at the same time. He should probably reveal his identity before this goes any further, but he just – can't. He can't give this up so quickly, not after dreaming of Blaine for an entire year. “Thank you. And – likewise.”

Blaine is beautiful when he blushes. Kurt can't take his eyes off of him as they make their way to the edge of the room. “Won't you be missed?” he worries. “This is your ball, isn't it?”

Blaine just shrugs. “Let them miss me. I have spent a year trying to find you, and it's my birthday. I just want a few minutes alone with you.”

Kurt smiles, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed by Blaine's honesty. “As long as you're sure,” he agrees.

“Very sure,” Blaine says, and they head straight for the doors where they slip out unnoticed by anyone. Just like last time.

**

Kurt looks as beautiful in the soft light of the terrace as Blaine remembered him every lonely night he lay awake in his room, hoping and praying to find him again. If anything, Kurt has become even more stunning over the past year, has completely grown into his body. Now he's here, taking a few steps between the pillars, his lovely profile turned toward Blaine, the slightest hint of nervousness visible in the set of his jaw, the fluttering of his lashes. It's an overwhelming sight and for a moment, Blaine can't remember how to breathe properly.

Then, Kurt turns around to him, attempting a small smile. “So, how have you been?”

Blaine – laughs, it just bubbles up inside of him. It's the most ridiculous start to their conversation. It's also the very best place to start. And after a year of dreaming, he suddenly stands in front of him and he's as lovely as Blaine remembers and he finds himself falling in love all over again. Or maybe he's only falling in love now after chasing after a dream for twelve months. Whatever it is, he knows that he's not going to let him get away again, not this time. He has been waiting for this for so long, dreaming of something too perfect to be real. But he's here now. He is real. And Blaine can still feel it, the way he's drawn to him, the gentle tug at his heart that leaves him unable to look away.

“I've had a tough year,” he says. “But now I'm starting to feel very hopeful about the future.”

Kurt suddenly looks worried. “Blaine -” He breaks off, apparently thinking about how to say what he needs to say. Blaine thinks he should be worried about being blown off. And maybe he is. But right now the relief at having found him after all this time is stronger than everything else.

“What's wrong?” he asks.

Kurt sighs. “It's good to see you again. It really is. I'm – very happy.”

“I am too.”

“I'm glad.” Kurt smiles. “So, I hear you are getting married?” he asks, almost shyly, something like regret on his face.

Blaine nods slowly. “I have to.”

“I know.”

“I'm going to be king, and apparently that requires -”

“A queen,” Kurt finishes the sentence for him, and his smile now is definitely tinged with sadness even though he's trying to hide it.

“A spouse,” Blaine corrects.

Kurt smiles at him, a genuine, open smile. “I hope you find someone, Blaine,” he says. “And I wish you every happiness. You deserve all of it. And I wanted to – I came here to thank you, for the best night of my life. A year ago, I left without ever saying that. And I just wanted you to know.”

Blaine takes a step closer, but Kurt lowers his eyes. “Don't thank me,” Blaine begs. “Let's recreate it instead. Please. I've been thinking about you so much.”

“I can't -”

“I know we don't really know each other yet,” Blaine continues. “But I like you a lot, Kurt. And I'd like to dance with you again. I'd like to get to know you better. Because this past year, you've been constantly on my mind.”

“And you on mine,” Kurt almost whispers, eyes still cast toward the ground.

“Then let's not waste any more time,” Blaine begs. “Please, Kurt.”

“But I'm not who you think I am,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “Oh, Blaine. I am so sorry for everything – I want to dance with you,” he promises. “I do want to stay. But it's impossible.”

“Why impossible?” Blaine asks, reaching for his hands, but Kurt flinches away. “I know we can do this. I'll talk to my parents. We can be together. I want -”

“Because I'm not of noble birth,” Kurt admits, and whatever Blaine feared he was going to say, this was not it.

“What?” For a moment it's like the world stops; the sounds of voices and music from the ball room fading further into the distance. He knows on some level that it should matter, he knows he should discard the idea of pursuing anything with Kurt immediately, but … it's like he can't even wrap his head around the idea. He knows that things just got a hell of a lot more difficult than he expected, and yet his first clear thought is, _he didn't leave because he didn't want me. He left because of_ this, _oh god, it had nothing to do with me at all_. And he wants to talk, he wants to say something, anything, but shock silences his voice, leaves him standing with his mouth open, staring at Kurt incredulously.

“My father is a blacksmith,” Kurt continues. “I'm a clothier's apprentice. I don't belong here. I apologize for deceiving you, my prince.” He looks up, finally, and there are tears in his eyes. “My friend helped me get into the ball. Please don't hold it against her. We grew up together, my mother was a cook in her household and she remained my friend when she shouldn't have. I just – I wanted to go to a ball so badly. Just once in my life. I didn't expect -” He breaks off, swallows, shrugs.

Blaine takes a step closer, light-headed with the weight of Kurt's revelation. “What didn't you expect?”

Kurt laughs, a short, sad laugh, and looks at Blaine with so much longing in his eyes it almost takes his breath away. “You,” he says simply. “Meeting you, getting to dance with you, being kissed by you.”

“It was my first kiss,” Blaine confesses, voice low, awed. “My only kiss so far.”

“Mine too,” Kurt says. “I didn't expect any of it. And I am so grateful, Blaine. More than you can imagine. You were so kind and wonderful, and I wish I could stay, I wish we could – I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry for what I did, I never meant to hurt you.”

Blaine stares at him, takes him in, feels all the pent-up longing of the past year, and it shakes him to the core. And the next words out of his mouth surprise even himself. “Kurt, it doesn't matter.”

“Um, excuse me?”

Blaine shakes his head, trembling a little as it starts sinking in what he's about to propose. “It doesn't. It doesn't matter. I _like_ you. And you're still the kindest man I have ever met, and the most stunning, and the sweetest, and the smartest, and I still just – like you. I have never felt this way about anyone before in my life,” he says, takes another step closer so he can take Kurt's hands in his own. “Kurt,” he says, meeting his eyes, making Kurt look back at him. “I've been looking for you forever. And I don't just mean this past year. I'm not letting you go now that I found you.”

Kurt stares back at him. “Blaine, we can't,” he tries. “We – It's impossible, isn't it?”

“Nothing is impossible,” Blaine promises him. “Just say that you want this, and we'll find a way. I promise we will. If only you're willing to try.”

Kurt laughs, a breathy little laugh, face softening from worry to surprise. “We don't even know each other,” he reminds Blaine. “We've spent maybe four hours together. You're willing to risk everything based on four hours?”

Blaine squeezes his hands. “Based on four hours with _you_. Yes. Yes, I am.”

“We'll have to get to know each other,” Kurt insists. “You may be the prince, but – I still don't know you. Let me get to know you for real first?”

“We can do that,” Blaine says. “We can spend time together. I want you to visit me here at the palace. And I want to visit you and your family.”

“God, no, Blaine, we live in a cottage, right behind the blacksmith's shop, and it always smells like fire and there's soot everywhere -”

“I want to,” Blaine says, a rush of fondness shuddering through him and leaving him breathless, talking too fast through his smile. “I hang out in the stables all the time. I'm not a spoiled rich kid.”

“I didn't say you were, forgive me, my prince -”

“No, none of that,” Blaine interrupts. “I'm just saying, I'll visit your world if you visit mine. And maybe we'll find our own in the middle?”

“But you're still going to be king,” Kurt reminds him.

“Well, yes.” Blaine shrugs. “But I don't see what that has to do with anything.”

“You're insane,” Kurt breathes. “You really want to keep seeing me?”

Blaine nods. “I do. But right now, I just want to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?”

Instead of a response, Kurt leans forward, pressing his lips to Blaine's. Kurt's mouth is warm and soft and brushing against his so gently, a drawn-out, searching, slow-moving second kiss.

It's really the best answer he could have given him.

**

They do get to dance more that night. Blaine cannot give him every dance and Kurt understands, but they still dance together enough for people to notice. And it's funny to Kurt, almost, how Blaine can disappear from his own party for hours at a time without anyone obviously missing him, but when he's in the ballroom, all of his movements seem to be tracked by everyone present.

Whenever Blaine is dancing with someone else, Rachel immediately seems to find Kurt, take his arm, tugging until he gives in and dances with her. He knows she wants to know how things are going, what it means that Blaine seems glued to his side all night. And he knows she deserves an explanation, she is the one who made all of this possible for him in the first place. But right now, he can't talk about it. He barely understands it himself.

It's not like Blaine has proposed to him. It's not like he _can_ , Kurt doesn't know all the laws of the kingdom but he is fairly certain that a king cannot marry a blacksmith's son. And even if he did, Kurt isn't at all convinced that he'd say yes. Not without knowing what it would mean for him and his dad and his friends. On top of that, he doesn't even really know Blaine yet.

It is true, he likes him. A lot. And it's true, he's been dreaming of him for a whole year. But it had been a _dream_. This is reality. And while he is happy beyond belief and can't stop smiling every time Blaine slides his hand into his and spins him into a dance, he can't just – risk everything, based on this. It feels insane. It feels ridiculously overwhelmingly insane; Blaine is going to postpone picking a spouse to give this thing between them a chance. He's going to defy his parents just for Kurt. It's crazy. But in the end, it just means they have to be really really sure about what they're doing.

_He_ needs to be sure. He needs to be absolutely sure that this is what he wants. Because once he agrees to it there will be no going back, he does know enough about nobility to know that. He'd be known. Being the prince's partner, he couldn't fade back into the shadows if things didn't work out.

He does get to meet Blaine's parents that night, though. It's a tense moment, when Blaine takes his hand, leads him up to his mother and father and introduces him to them. He doesn't tell them everything Kurt told him, about where he's from, who his family is. Just, “This is Kurt, and I want you to meet him.” And the king and queen are nice to him, offer their hands, smile, make small talk for a while until Blaine leads him away to dance one more time. And still he feels the pressure, the question in Blaine's parents' eyes. It's … a little uncomfortable. But if he does decide to go through with this, he's probably going to have to get used to being looked at.

**

This time, he doesn't disappear without a word. When it's time for him to leave (he has to see to it that Rachel gets home safely), he tells Blaine and Blaine leads him out to the terrace again, away from any prying eyes until they're deep in the shadows of the pillars and rose bushes.

Blaine hugs him tight for several minutes, not saying a word, just holding on with his face pressed into the fabric of Kurt's suit, just over his shoulder. There's something desperate about the hug, and Kurt understands this too, feels it himself. He's been dreaming for so long. But he'd been content to dream for the rest of his life. Blaine had been _hoping_. If Kurt is overwhelmed with what happened, he can't imagine how Blaine must be feeling.

So he hugs him back, holds on tight, enjoying the sensation of being held, of holding someone like this. He's never had anyone hug him quite like this before, like he's precious, like close isn't even close enough. It feels great, to be touched with affection instead of hate for once, to be held close instead of being pushed away. To be wanted instead of rejected.

When Blaine draws back, his eyes are wide, hopeful, desperate. “When can I see you again?” he asks. “How can I find you?”

Kurt lifts a hand, gently cups Blaine's cheek. “I live in the village of Lima. My father is the blacksmith. Just ask for Hummel.”

Blaine nods. “Is tomorrow too soon?”

Kurt laughs a little breathlessly. He has a beautiful boy in his arms who wants to see him again and can't even wait a day before coming to find him. “Tomorrow is perfect,” he assures Blaine. “I'll be waiting for you.”

Blaine nods, opening and closing his mouth as if he wants to say something, eyes drifting down to Kurt's lips. “I have to -” he finally manages to get out, but then just leans in instead of finishing his sentence, kissing him hard and deep and with so much need, all Kurt can do is cling to him and kiss back.

**

He cannot stop smiling all the way back to his village. Rachel tries to get all the details out of him, obviously very happy for him, and Kurt tries to fill her in as much as he can, but mostly he doesn't even have the words to really explain what all of this means to him.

“The _prince_ , Kurt,” Rachel squeals. “The _prince_ is in _love_ with you! That is so exciting!”

Kurt just nods, bites his lip, stares at his hands folded in his lap as the carriage rocks its way back to Lima. _Love_. It is such a big word. He's not sure it really applies, not yet anyway – the fact remains that they're strangers, even if they are clearly so very attracted to each other. As for the other thing...

“I don't care that he's a prince,” Kurt says. “If anything, it was simpler before I knew he was. That night a year ago, when I just thought he was a boy of noble birth, rich, but still just – a guy. You know? He can't help being the prince, I know that. We don't choose our families. But it doesn't make him more attractive to me in any way. I like him because – because he's Blaine. Because he's sweet and polite and handsome and loves music and beautiful things and he makes me feel ...” he sighs, shaking his head as he tries to find the words. “He makes me feel like I could be happy.”

Rachel takes one of his hands in both of hers, leans her head on his shoulder. “You deserve to be happy,” she says. “I want that for you so much.”

“Thank you,” he says, meaning it.

“I love you, Kurt,” she says. “You know that, right? I love you a lot.”

“I love you too,” he assures her and kisses her hair. He's been very lucky with his friends indeed.

**

Kurt is ready to go to work that morning, stepping out of the door right behind his father who's going to work in the blacksmith's shop, when he notices the carriage parked on the other side of the road. It's a rather large one for this village, and kind of expensive looking.

“What's going on there?” Burt asks, looking across the street curiously.

“I don't know,” Kurt says, even though his heart is starting to beat faster.

He walks with his dad since he has to go past the shop on his way to work anyway. And there's someone standing next to the door of his dad's shop, someone short and with carefully controlled dark hair, someone with his back turned to them and in clothes that look plain and too big but a posture that looks familiar. That someone is talking to Finn, apparently entertaining him judging by the way Finn is laughing and clapping the short stranger's shoulder.

Kurt and his father are almost up to the door when the man turns around, and Kurt cannot stop the smile that spreads across his face automatically, cannot fight the blush that rises high on his cheeks.

“Blaine,” he says on the end of an exhale, and Blaine's face breaks into a similarly bright smile.

“Kurt!”

“So, you really meant it, when you said today,” Kurt laughs, a little overwhelmed. It's not like he had expected Blaine to break his word. But seeing him here, standing outside his father's shop mere hours after they parted and even wearing plain clothes to blend in and not draw any attention to them (even if, honestly, they just make him look ridiculous being several sizes too big) – it makes him really, indescribably happy.

“I couldn't wait any longer,” Blaine tells him. “I hope that's all right?”

Kurt bites his lip, blushing darker. “I have to go to work. Actually.”

Burt clears his throat, looking at Blaine with a confused expression on his face. “Who's your friend, Kurt?”

Kurt looks at Blaine, their eyes meeting for a moment, and he sees the question in Blaine's eyes. He sighs, making a quick decision. “Finn, can you watch the shop by yourself for a little while?” he asks. “There's something I have to talk about with my dad.”

Finn nods. “Sure thing, if Burt is fine with that?”

“What's going on, Kurt?” Burt wants to know.

Kurt shakes his head. “I'll be right back,” he says. “I have to make my apologies to Isabelle. Could you – dad, I promise, I'll tell you everything, could you just wait here for me until I'm back? I'll be quick.”

Burt scratches his head, looking a bit lost. But in the end he trusts Kurt, he's never had a reason not to. “Why don't I show Blaine into our kitchen and get some tea ready for all of us?” he asks.

Kurt gives him a grateful smile. “I love you, dad,” he says.

Burt shrugs. “I'm kind of curious to find out where all of this is going.”


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt is getting into bed that night when his father knocks on his door, an almost hesitant-sounding rap of knuckles against the rough wood. “Kurt? You still awake, son?”

Kurt sighs, goes to open his door. It's not like he hadn't expected a talk. “Still awake, dad,” he says, smiles. “What's going on?”

Burt clears his throat a little awkwardly, scratches the back of his neck. “I – made us some tea. If you're not too tired. I figured we should talk.”

“Yes. Tea sounds good.” Kurt nods, just a little nervous about this conversation but knowing there's really no way around it. So he follows his dad to the kitchen, sits in a chair, accepts the mug of steaming hot tea, and waits.

“So.” Burt starts after a while. “The prince, huh?”

Kurt bites his lip, looks down at the table top. “It's not like I planned it.”

His father sighs. “You had your friends sneak you into a royal ball,” his father points out. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? And how dangerous?”

“What's the worst that could have happened to me, dad?” Kurt asks, suddenly feeling defiant. “They could have thrown me out and I would have had to walk home?”

“What about Rachel?” Burt asks. “What about her family? It probably wouldn't have helped them if people were talking more behind their backs than they already are.”

“No one would have ever had to know that she helped me,” Kurt insists.

His father just gives him a look. “I'm still not thrilled about what you did, Kurt. There's nothing to be done about it anymore and you're too old to be grounded. But I just wanted you to know that. I'm really disappointed in you. I didn't raise you to sneak around and risk getting others in trouble.”

That stings more than anything else his father could have said – disappointing him is the last thing he ever wants to do. “I'm sorry dad,” he says.

“I know.” Burt sighs again, shakes his head as his eyes focus on some spot in the distance. “I still have to wrap my head around the fact that the prince was in our kitchen today and practically asked me for permission to court you.” He laughs, something between amusement and pride in his voice. “I always knew you were something special, Kurt, but this is going to take some getting used to.”

Kurt feels himself blush. “I know. I can't believe it either. He might come to his senses yet and court someone who's better suited for him though, so don't get your hopes up about dining at the palace anytime soon,” he says, only half teasing.

Burt, in the middle of taking a sip of his tea, lowers his mug and shakes his head at Kurt. “If that boy has any sense at all he'll ask you to marry him before the year is over. You're a great catch, Kurt, and don't you ever let anyone tell you differently.”

“We're hardly nobility, dad,” Kurt reminds his father. “There were times when we could hardly afford bread, after mom died. Blaine and I – we're from completely different worlds.”

“But you like him.” It doesn't sound like a question.

Kurt nods. “I think so. I hardly know him. But I feel like – like I really want to.”

“He seems to like you too,” Burt says. “That much I could tell. He seems to be a smart guy, and coming here in disguise, going to all that trouble – I doubt he'd do that if he didn't mean it. But -” he looks Kurt straight in the eyes, expression serious. “I still want you to be careful, okay? You don't have to do anything just because he's our future king. He may be royalty, but you're just as important, never forget that.”

“Thanks dad,” Kurt says, an honest smile spreading across his face.

“And nobility or not, that boy would be lucky to get you, Kurt. You're smart and you have your mother's kind heart. He couldn't do any better, if you ask me.”

Kurt laughs. “You are my father. You have to say that.”

Burt shakes his head. “I may be biased, but that doesn't mean it isn't true. Just promise me you'll make sure it's what you want before you agree to anything, alright?”

Kurt nods. “I promise, dad.”

“You're going to see him tomorrow?”

“Yes, after work. I told him if he was serious about this, he'd come here and have dinner with us and better pretend that he likes it.” He laughs.

Burt looks proud. “I think you're going to be alright, son,” he says.

**

It feels weird, knowing Blaine will be over for dinner. Everything about their house is small and simple and their food is plain and probably not at all what Blaine is used to eating at the palace. But this is his life, Kurt thinks. This is the life he's been living for more than seventeen years and if Blaine wants to really understand him, he has to see it. And Kurt isn't ashamed of where he comes from. He's been wishing to escape sometimes when the teasing got really bad, but he's not ashamed of his home or his father or his work.

Blaine's carriage is waiting outside Isabelle's shop once Kurt exits after closing time, Blaine leaning against the wall by the side of the house, wearing the same plain clothes he's been wearing the day before. It's actually kind of cute, even if he still looks better dressed than most of the villagers. Except for the fact that his clothes do look several sizes too big again.

“Where did you even get these clothes?” He asks in lieu of a greeting.

Blaine's face lights up as he sees him, and he pushes himself off the wall to walk over to where Kurt is standing. “My best friend Sam,” Blaine explains.

Kurt raises an eyebrow at him. “Is he a really bad tailor?”

Blaine laughs, shaking his head. “He's a stable boy. These are his clothes. He's a bit taller than me, so -”

“Your best friend is a stable boy?” Kurt asks, not as surprised as he thinks he maybe should be by this revelation. It sort of fits in with everything he's learned about Blaine so far.

“Sam is a great guy,” Blaine says. “We've known each other forever. Great singing voice too.”

“Will I ever hear your singing voice?” Kurt asks.

Blaine winks at him. “If you play your cards right. And if you promise to sing for me in return. I guess something could be arranged.” He takes a step toward the carriage, motioning for Kurt to get in. “Shall we?”

Kurt bites his lip. “Blaine, I can't go home in a carriage. I know you mean well, but -”

“It's not a big deal,” Blaine assures him. “Ryder will just drop us off at your place and then go to the pub until it's time to go home.”

“No, I mean -” Kurt sighs. “It would attract a lot of attention, do you understand? People here don't usually take carriages to get home after work.”

Blaine pauses, seems to think about it for a minute before he smiles at Kurt again. “I'm sorry, of course not. I didn't even think about that. Let's just walk instead?”

Kurt breathes a sigh of relief. He really doesn't want to attract more looks than necessary. “Yes. That sounds good.”

“Just a second,” Blaine says, hurrying over to speak with the coachman who Kurt assumes is Ryder. A minute later, the carriage starts rolling away toward the center of the village.

“He's going to meet me back here in four hours,” Blaine says. “That's enough time for dinner, isn't it?”

Kurt laughs. “That's plenty of time. That's enough for a cup of tea after and maybe a walk even if you're up for it.”

“That sounds lovely,” Blaine tells him, looking excited, falling into step beside Kurt as he starts off in the direction of home.

They have to walk past the pond, of course, and as every single day for the past few years, Azimio and Karofsky and their friends are already there, drinking beer and waiting for him. They usually don't do anything if Kurt isn't alone, which is what he's counting on today. And even if they do, it's not like he can do anything about it. And he's promised Blaine to show him his world. This is a part of that world he's living in and he's not going to hide this ugly aspect of it. There's no way he could, for one. But also, if Blaine really wants to know who he's spending his time with, Kurt thinks that this is as much a part of him as his love for all things beautiful.

Sure enough, there is no one shoving him or hitting him or throwing mud at him today. Deep down, they're all terrible cowards, and the presence of just one other person, however small and unthreatening, is enough to make them keep their distance. It's not enough to make them keep their mouths shut, however, and Kurt keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead, clenches his jaw as they walk past to calls of, “Who's your boyfriend, ladyboy?” and “Finally found someone blind enough to fuck you?” and “Did you tell him you're not really a girl or is that gonna be the big surprise when he gets your pants off?”

Kurt can feel Blaine walk a little closer to him, risks a quick look at him to see him stare ahead with his fists clenched at his sides, blinking, his body looking tense and the expression on his face a cross between scared and confused.

“What was that?” Blaine whispers once they've rounded a corner and are out of sight.

Kurt sighs. “The village idiots, if you ask me. I'm sorry, I should have warned you.”

Blaine gapes at him. “You knew they were going to be there?”

Kurt just shrugs. “They have been waiting there for me almost every day for as long as I can remember.”

“And they always yell at you like that?”

Kurt shakes his head. “Sometimes they push me in the water or throw things at me. They only really beat me up a few times, and not for a few months now. They're getting soft in their old age.”

“They beat you up?” Blaine asks, voice quiet, disbelieving. “Why would they do that?”

Kurt laughs. “Why do you think, Blaine? Couldn't you tell from the stuff they were yelling just now?”

Blaine is quiet for a second, just walking beside Kurt, something hardening in the set of his jaw. “My father told me it was worse in the villages,” he finally says. “I didn't quite know what he meant until now.”

“Change is slow here,” Kurt explains. “People don't like what they don't understand.”

“That doesn't give them the right to hurt you.” Blaine sounds angry even though his voice is trembling with something else, something Kurt can't quite identify.

“There's nothing I can do about it, Blaine,” Kurt says, suddenly feeling tired. “You wanted to see my world. This is a part of it.”

Blaine nods. “I want so much to take your hand right now,” he confesses. “I want to hug you. But I guess that wouldn't be the smartest idea out here.”

“No, it wouldn't,” Kurt agrees. “But just for the record, if we were anywhere else, I'd gladly let you take my hand and hug me.” He smiles at Blaine, hoping to have cheered him up at least a little.

Blaine gives him a shaky smile back, and keeps walking.

He hugs him as soon as the door to Kurt's house is closed behind them, just wraps his arms around him and holds on, burying his face against Kurt's shoulder. Kurt, a little surprised at first, hugs back, feeling his heart lift with gratitude for this man he didn't expect but who's turning out to be even more perfect than he'd ever pictured him.

Blaine is the first to pull back eventually, and his eyes are a little red. “I'm so sorry you have to go through all of that,” he says. “I had no idea it was – like this, in parts of the kingdom.”

“It's not your fault,” Kurt promises him.

“No, but it's my responsibility,” Blaine answers. “It's going to be my kingdom. We'll have to think of some way to make it safe for everyone.”

Kurt just looks at him for a minute, doesn't know what to say. “You're kind of amazing,” he breathes finally, leans in to kiss Blaine's lips, quick and hard and passionate. “Thank you.”

“I haven't done anything yet,” Blaine protests.

“You care,” Kurt tells him. “That's more than most people do.”

Blaine blushes, lowers his eyes, then blinks up at Kurt from under thick lashes before rising onto his toes to steal another quick kiss. “I care about you,” he says, voice shy and quiet. “A lot. I hope you know that.”

Kurt can't stop smiling the entire rest of the night.

**

His first dinner at the palace is – awkward, sort of. There's really no other word to describe it. He cannot hide in a crowd this time, and he doesn't have Rachel by his side to whisper in his ear what he should do, where to put his hands, which glass is for water and which is for wine. It's just him and Blaine and Blaine's parents, and Kurt feels overwhelmed. He's dining with the king and the queen. He's almost glad that Blaine's brother isn't there to join them, as much as he'd like to meet him. It's one less person he needs to worry about impressing.

Blaine had offered to send a carriage to pick him up but Kurt had refused, insisted he could find his own way to the palace. In the end, he'd asked Rachel to borrow one of their horses for the night. It still doesn't feel good to have to rely on other people, but he feels better borrowing from Rachel than from Blaine. His relationship with Blaine is unequal enough as it is, no need to accept every small favor thrown his way. Kurt has his pride too.

He arrives at the palace almost right on time, smooths down the lapels of the jacket he made himself just for this occasion. It's the finest fabric he could get his hands on on such short notice and he still fears he'll be horribly underdressed. But there's nothing to be done about it. They all know where he's from anyway.

He'd been hoping that Blaine would greet him in person, but isn't surprised when a valet meets him by the door instead. A prince probably doesn't open the door himself, Kurt reminds himself. He still feels very uncomfortable being led through the palace like he's someone important – technically this man showing him the way has almost a higher social standing than Kurt himself who is only a clothier's apprentice living in the most inconsequential village in the kingdom. And yet here he is being led to a hall that looks like a ballroom but with a dining table at the center.

Blaine is there already – and Kurt feels the tension in his shoulders ease a little at the sight of him – looking nervous and excited all at the same time.

“Kurt,” he exclaims, hurrying toward him and taking his hands as the valet discreetly backs out of the room. “I'm sorry, I wanted to meet you outside, but -”

“It's fine,” Kurt assures him, attempting a laugh, wondering if he really looks that uncomfortable. “This place looks a lot bigger in daylight, it's – impressive, really.”

Blaine nods almost absentmindedly. “I'm so glad you're here.”

Kurt squeezes Blaine's hands, doesn't really know what to say. Everything is big and bright and a little too much. Eating here will take some getting used to.

Meeting the king and queen officially and making polite dinner conversation is sort of a revelation. He doesn't know what he expected them to be like, especially after having met Blaine, but he's sort of surprised when they laugh and joke like normal people and ask him questions about the things he enjoys and tell him stories of Blaine as a child. They're – sort of normal people. Normal people wearing clothes that probably cost more than Kurt's house and with a dining room the size of Lima's village square. But they're still just people.

He still can't shake the nervousness, can't quite bring himself to relax fully. His voice is steady when he talks, but his smiles are shaky and he keeps using the wrong fork for his salad and there are some things on his plate that he can't identify and he has no idea if they're actually safe to eat or just for decoration. So he has to steal sneaky glances at Blaine's plate which makes him miss part of the conversation and then he doesn't know how to answer when the king addresses him with a question and feels his face heat up with a violent blush as he has to ask for the question to be repeated.

Blaine leans over to him at a lull in the conversation when the king is saying something to the queen, finds Kurt's hand under the table and gives it a soft squeeze. “You're doing fine,” he whispers in his ear. “They like you.”

Kurt offers Blaine a grateful smile and holds onto his hand for as long as he can. He's not at all sure that Blaine is right about this, but he appreciates his words all the same.


	6. Chapter 6

They keep up the same routine over the next months – two dinners a week, one at Kurt's house behind the blacksmith's shop and one at the palace with Blaine's parents.

Blaine thinks it's going incredibly well – the more they get to know each other, the more he falls in love with Kurt. He's every bit as wonderful as Blaine had ever imagined him to be, just even stronger, even more beautiful inside and out.

He'd been shocked to know Kurt's true identity after searching for him in all the wrong places for an entire year. But he'd known the moment Kurt had revealed who he was that it didn't change his feelings for him one bit. When it comes down to it, Blaine thinks, it makes Kurt even more amazing, makes Blaine fall for him even harder than he'd thought possible. Because Kurt is simply wonderful.

It's refreshing to meet someone who isn't impressed by the size and grandeur of the palace and the power of Blaine's family. If anything, Blaine thinks he'd have an easier time winning Kurt over if his home were smaller, if his parents were merchants or farmers instead of the king and queen.

Kurt loves beautiful things, but he still looks around the sitting room Blaine had taken him to for their tea with a wrinkled nose, huffing out a breath, saying, “Seriously, how can you need this much space, it's _decadent_ , Blaine. And how do you even keep those rooms warm? It must be freezing in here most of the year.”

Blaine shrugs. “We keep a lot of the rooms closed during the winter months.”

Kurt takes a sip of his tea, sighs. “Then why have them at all, if you don't even need them?”

Blaine doesn't have an answer for that. But he falls in love with Kurt just a little more in that moment.

He shows Kurt to his rooms another time and this time Kurt's eyes do light up in delight – Blaine's own sitting room is small and the bedroom even smaller, it makes it easier to keep warm when it's cold outside and sometimes Blaine likes feeling like he can just hide away in here.

“Do you like it?” he asks Kurt, almost shyly, watching him walk around the small room, eyeing the pictures on the wall.

Kurt turns to him, beaming. “It's wonderful. Not too big. But cozy. You have good taste.” He blushes a little. “I can see you living here,” he says, lowering his eyes. “It seems very – you.”

“Because I'm small?” Blaine teases.

Kurt laughs, walks over to him to kiss him. “Because it's beautiful,” he says and blushes even harder.

The one time Blaine actually does manage to impress Kurt is when he shows him into the main library – it's twice the size of the ballroom and two stories high and pretty much holds every book ever written in the kingdom. And Blaine opens the door for him, lets Kurt walk in past him, enjoys the way his eyes widen and his jaw drops and he just stands speechless for a moment.

“This is one of my favorite places,” Blaine tells him, feeling a little proud of having managed to put that look of utter awe on Kurt's face.

“I've never seen that many books in one place,” Kurt breathes. “How many of them have you read?”

Blaine shrugs. “A few. Well. A lot. You can borrow whatever you want, if you'd like to pick something.”

The look Kurt gives him is one of the warmest yet, there are actual tears in his eyes as he surges forward to kiss Blaine hard and deep, and Blaine feels his heart flip in his chest. He likes making Kurt happy.

He organizes a picnic for them the next week because the weather is nice, it's late summer and Blaine wants to use the last sunny days of the year to show Kurt more than just the inside of the palace. They've taken walks through the gardens, but this time he takes Kurt all the way to the pond beyond the small forest, to that small hill that overlooks the fields beyond. It's one of his favorite spots and he hopes Kurt will like it.

They borrow horses from the stables (which is also his chance to introduce Kurt to Sam, who slaps his back when Kurt isn't looking and murmurs, “Well done, I like him.”)

Blaine has put together everything by himself. They don't take a servant with them, Blaine wants to be alone with Kurt.

Also, he knows by now that Kurt will appreciate it more if Blaine does these things by himself even if they'll turn out less perfect. He's tried to give Kurt gifts before and Kurt is too polite to turn them down, but Blaine can see it makes him uncomfortable since he has so little to give in return. Blaine doesn't know how to tell him that he doesn't want anything in return, he just wants Kurt to have beautiful things.

But then he'd figured out how to make Kurt smile that afternoon in the gardens when he'd handed him a simple flower plucked from the grass, taken him in his arms and danced with him to a simple tune hummed under his breath. Kurt had smiled and sung with him and kissed him for a long time before parting that night.

Blaine hopes this will have a similar effect – he hasn't made any of the food himself, but he's picked the wine and he's packed the basket, and he sets everything up all by himself once they arrive at the spot.

“This is lovely,” Kurt tells him once they're settled on their blanket and smiles at him. Later, he allows Blaine to feed him pieces of cake and then pushes him down onto the blanket until Blaine is stretched out on his back, leans over him and kisses him until the sun goes down.

**

Visiting Kurt is – certainly an experience for Blaine. Both Kurt and his father are proud people and he never wants them to think he feels anything but comfortable in their home. Still, it does take some getting used to.

It's drafty, for one – Blaine starts wearing warmer clothes when he dines at their house because the thin walls never seem to keep out the harsh winds of Lima completely.

He also has to get used to everything being so small, to the portions being so tiny, to everything tasting rather bland. He knows they go all out every time he comes by. He doesn't even want to imagine what they eat when he's not there. Some days, they don't even have meat – he knows they can't afford it and he's always known there were people who couldn't, but to know something and to experience it are still two completely different things. It shocks him.

It only takes him by surprise the first time he's over when Kurt and his father get up after dinner to clear the table and wash the dishes. Of course he'd known they didn't have a servant, but he'd never really considered this aspect of their lives before. It's such a simple task, he thinks, washing the dishes after a meal. They must think him horribly spoiled that he doesn't know these things. So the next time he's over he manages to talk them into letting him help, and a few weeks later no one even bats an eye when Blaine dries as Kurt washes and Burt puts away the bread and cheese and wipes down the table.

They take walks in Lima too, but they stick to the edges of the village or the woods. Blaine knows it might make him a coward, but he doesn't want to run into Kurt's bullies again. He doesn't want Kurt to run into them ever again. For a few weeks he tries talking Kurt into the idea of sending a carriage for him every day to take him to work and take him home at the end of the day, but Kurt can't be persuaded, insists he's fine and he can deal with it.

It still makes Blaine's heart ache when Kurt shows up with a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his hand for dinner the following week.

“I wish you'd let me help,” he says, lifting a hand to carefully run his fingertips over the unhurt skin of Kurt's forehead.

Kurt shakes his head resolutely. “Thank you, Blaine. But I can handle this.”

“They really hurt you this time,” Blaine says, voice choked with emotion, palms itching to take Kurt in his arms and keep him safe there forever.

“I've had worse,” Kurt says, something hard in his eyes. He still looks – haunted. But Blaine knows he won't be able to persuade him to accept his protection.

So Blaine kisses him instead, tries to pour everything he's feeling into the kiss. He's in awe of this man and he adores him and he'll make it his mission to make him smile for the rest of their lives. It's all he wants.

**

Summer is gone and the first leaves are falling, making the mud road to Lima almost beautiful on this soft fall evening as Blaine makes his way to the village to meet Kurt.

They've been having these dinners for well over half a year now, he's been courting him for almost eight months, and in that time they've grown closer than Blaine can remember ever being with anyone else in his life. He's never courted anyone else, never even kissed anyone else, but he really doesn't think he needs anything to compare this to – his heart is telling him everything he needs to know.

His heart is telling him how wonderful Kurt is, how strong and beautiful and talented and amazing. It's telling him how every day is better and brighter when Kurt is in it and how Blaine never wants to spend another day without him; he's so happy when Kurt is near.

He can feel it as he's approaching the village, that gentle tug on his soul reminding him that it's not long now until he'll see his love again, hold him again, kiss him again – he's so in love with this man he can hardly breathe sometimes, so in love it almost hurts. Kurt is the best thing in his life after such a short time already, and he knows he can never let him go. He's sure that Kurt cares for him too. He just hopes that's enough. Because he knows he's asking a lot of him, leaving his world for Blaine. If he even says yes.

**

Kurt meets Blaine by the door, pulls him into a hug as soon as the door has closed behind them. His father isn't home yet and they have a few minutes to themselves and god, he's missed him. He's been running around with a smile on his face all day knowing Blaine would be over tonight, has been waiting so impatiently to be with him again.

Blaine hugs him back hard and Kurt tightens his own arms around his smaller frame, greedily inhaling the scent of his skin, his hair, pressing their bodies together as close as he can, close is never even close enough with Blaine. He wants him in his arms forever and that thought no longer scares him – Blaine is worth it. Gentle and considerate and sweet, so easy to smile and make Kurt laugh and surprise him with awkwardly assembled picnics and he'd even picked up on the fact that gifts made Kurt uncomfortable, had instead done everything to charm him with nothing but his smile and his voice and his hugs and his sweet, toe-curling kisses.

And Kurt can't imagine a time when he won't want this anymore.

He takes him to his room, closes the door behind them to kiss him, long and deep and desperate. God, he wants this more than twice a week. He clings tighter, cups the back of Blaine's head, unable to hold back the little impatient noise that escapes his throat.

He's been thinking about it a lot lately – being alone with Blaine. Taking that last step they haven't taken yet; making love to each other. He _wants_ it. He wants it so overwhelmingly much.

Blaine pulls back suddenly, putting a hand on Kurt's chest when Kurt chases his lips.

“Kurt.”

Kurt flutters his eyes open, looks at Blaine, panting a little, takes in Blaine's kiss-swollen lips, the flush high on his cheeks. “What is it? Why did you stop?”

Blaine lets out a shaky breath, looking as overwhelmed as Kurt feels, eyes full of emotion. “I love you,” he says. “With all my heart and soul. I just wanted you to know.”

“Oh,” Kurt breathes, the smile stealing across his face slow and gentle, as the words sink in. “I love you too.”

The sound Blaine makes is between a sob and a laugh and then his lips are back on Kurt's, the kiss surprisingly gentle and sweet for the big revelation they just shared.

Kurt kisses back, holds Blaine in his arms and it's not difficult to imagine a future anymore where he can do this whenever he feels like it. He wants that.

**

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Blaine takes a deep breath, meeting his father's eyes across the table. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

“You have to know it won't be easy. You have to know that a lot of people will be very unhappy with your choice.”

Blaine shrugs. “I do know. But I believe it's still the right thing to do, in the long run. We haven't done enough to change public perception on this matter – do you know what Kurt has to face in his village every day? They physically attack him because he's gay. We need to do something. And sending a signal like this is going to be a good thing, I am sure of it.”

Blaine's father smiles at him. “As honorable as it is to want to change the world like that, you're not telling me you want to marry Kurt because you believe it's a good move politically or because you want to actually change the world. Am I right?”

“Well -” Blaine lowers his eyes, bites his lip, fights the huge grin that wants to take over his face. He can't help it though, thinking of Kurt just makes him so _happy_. “ ... No. I mean, I _want_ to change things. I _want_ to make things better for – for everyone, really. But no, I'm telling you I want to marry Kurt because I love him. And because I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else.” He looks up again, ready to defend his choices as he gives his father a challenging look. “This is what I want.”

His father is quiet for a long time, appraising Blaine with an undecipherable expression on his face. After what feels like an eternity, his face breaks into a smile, warm and a little smug, and he leans back in his chair. “Good,” he says. “I was quite certain that that was your true motivation, but I wanted to make sure anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Blaine asks.

His father lifts his shoulders, laughs. “I mean it when I say it's going to be difficult, Blaine. If you were doing this for anything less than love, I would definitely try to talk you out of it. I believe that to be my duty as a father. And also,” he adds, almost matter-of-factly, “You're my son and I love you very much and I want you to be happy. If Kurt will make you happy, then I will support you in your decision. I just want you to be absolutely sure, because I mean it when I say it won't be easy.”

“I am. Sure. I'm so sure about this,” Blaine promises.

“A blacksmith's son.” The king sighs. “Did you know that your great-great-grandmother married a pastry chef from the village of Westerville?” He laughs. “That woman loved to eat well. And I guess she really loved _him_ as well. From everything I've heard, they had a lovely marriage. And even though the kingdom refused to accept the fact that it had a new king for quite a while, he ended up being very well respected and even loved by his subjects in the end.”

Blaine nods his head. “King Leopold. Didn't they call him the Candy King?”

“They did. He was a good king.”

“Who was born a commoner.”

His father pats his shoulder affectionately. “We can do this, Blaine. It won't always be easy, but we can absolutely do this.”

Blaine lets out a shaky breath, suddenly feeling nervous. “If Kurt even wants to.”

“Yes, there's still that.” The king laughs. “That I cannot help you with, I'm afraid.”

Blaine nods. He knows that with his coronation coming up in just a few weeks, it's finally time to ask the question he's been wanting to ask since the night he and Kurt met on Blaine's seventeenth birthday. And now that he has the king's approval, there's really nothing stopping him anymore.

**

Planning the perfect proposal isn't easy. And planning the perfect proposal for Kurt – he doesn't know at all how to go about this. He has every option available to him; a variety of perfect settings (the gardens Kurt loves so much? That spot by the pond where they went for their picnic? The terrace where they shared their first kiss?) and there are a million things he could do to make it romantic, to make it memorable. He knows Kurt loves music, so should he hire an orchestra? Kurt loves beautiful things too, should he have a gift for him? But he knows how uncomfortable Kurt is about receiving expensive gifts, so maybe not that.

“I think it's best to keep it classy and elegant,” Wes advises. “A romantic stroll, and then you get down on one knee in front of the rose bushes outside the gazebo. Don't bring an entire orchestra, just maybe one violinist. A quartet at most. And have someone waiting nearby with a bottle of wine, you're going to want to drink to your engagement once he's said yes.”

Blaine wrinkles his nose, thinking about it. “I don't know if he'd like that, Wes,” he confesses. “It does sound a bit – much, don't you think?”

Wes sighs. “You know him better, I suppose. But this is what I did with Marley and it worked perfectly.”

Sam isn't really that much more helpful this time.

“You have to make it special,” he says.

“Yes,” Blaine encourages, hoping to finally get some help with the actual planning.

“Maybe you could pretend to be abducted,” Sam suggests.

“Um, excuse me?”

“Yes, we could all help, it would absolutely work!” Sam's eyes gleam as he's spinning his plan. “We'll search for you, all of us. Only we know where you are the entire time. And we'll direct him towards you, completely subtle of course, he'll never know we're in on it. And then he gets to rescue you, and you pretend you're so grateful, you just have to ask him to marry you, and he won't have seen you in a week and he'll have been out of his mind with worry and have no choice but to say yes -”

“I don't want to trick him into marrying me, Sam.” Blaine shakes his head, slightly horrified. “I want him to want to marry me.”

“Oh. Right.” Sam claps his shoulder. “Yes, that sounds much better. Just ask him if he wants to. I'm sure he'll say yes. He loves you, right?”

Blaine nods, sighing at his lack of a plan. “He said he did. I just hope that's enough.”

**

In the end, it just sort of happens.

Kurt has the day off from work on a day Blaine doesn't have any meetings and not even a single tutoring session, and he packs them a lunch from the palace kitchens, takes Kurt all the way to the lake on the far side of the palace grounds.

It's a beautiful spot and completely secluded, and they bring a book from the library, sit with their backs against a tree and take turns reading to each other.

The weather is getting colder already but it's still nice enough to spend the entire day by the lake, feeding each other pieces of fruit and eventually just moving on to stretching out on the blanket they brought along when they get tired of reading and kissing for what feels like hours.

Blaine even dozes off for a while with his head pillowed on Kurt's chest in the warmth of the afternoon sun, wakes up to the soft sounds of Kurt's even breaths, one of Kurt's arms securely around his waist.

He lifts his head to look at Kurt, finds him asleep too, and he's so in awe of him he can't even look away. Kurt is stunning even when he sleeps, so beautiful it makes Blaine's heart ache to even look at him. Emotion flutters inside his chest like an army of tiny butterflies; it's been months now, months of looking at Kurt and admiring Kurt and being in love with Kurt. And he adores every wonderful part of him, can't stop looking at him, every freckle on his face is dear to him.

“Darling,” Blaine breathes, careful not to wake him as he gently lifts a hand to cup his cheek. “I love you. I'm so glad I found you, please don't ever leave me.”

Kurt's mouth curves into a soft smile, his eyelashes fluttering as he fights to keep the pretense of being asleep, but then he gives up, chuckling quietly, happily and blinking sleepily against the setting sun. “I love you too.”

“I thought you were asleep.” Blaine grins, a little embarrassed.

“You move in your sleep when you're about to wake up.”

“Sorry. You could have let me know you were awake,” Blaine tries to complain without any real heat behind it.

“And risk stopping you from saying such lovely things?” Kurt asks, reaching for the back of Blaine's neck to pull him down into a short kiss. “I'm glad you found me too. Or I found you. I'm glad we found each other.” He laughs, then lets his arms drop to the blanket, stretches underneath Blaine like a cat with his eyes blissfully closed. “We should fall asleep like this more often, I feel so rested.”

Blaine can't take his eyes off of him, he feels like the luckiest guy in the world. And he doesn't even think about it, doesn't plan, doesn't worry about details. “Please marry me,” he says, and means it.

Kurt blinks up at him for a long moment, a little taken off guard at first, still mid-stretch, but then he lifts his arms back up, gently caressing Blaine's cheek with the fingertips of one hand as a smile takes over his face. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Blaine's heart skips a beat, then starts hammering in his chest, the moment finally catching up to him, and he can't help but smile back.

“Of course,” Kurt agrees.

Blaine is smiling so widely now his cheeks are starting to hurt. He still needs to make sure. “You know what you're getting yourself into, don't you? You'll be king. And we're both men, you know what the world is like, you know what we could be facing -”

“Blaine.” Kurt gives him a look, a mix between amused and stern, and Blaine shuts up. “I know,” Kurt assures him. “I know what the world is like. I've been living in it all my life. My best friend has two fathers. And yes, I am well aware that you're our future king and I know what that means for me. You've been courting me for eight months. Do you think I haven't thought this through?”

“You've thought about it?” Blaine feels so happy he could burst. “You've thought about marrying me?”

“Sometimes, my love, you're really incredibly dumb,” Kurt tells him, slightly exasperated, and pulls him down into a kiss.

Blaine doesn't object to this turn of events.


	7. Epilogue

They have no choice but to make it a big wedding – Blaine is the prince, soon to be king. And on top of that, everyone wants a look at his chosen one, the blacksmith's son who stole the prince's heart.

He keeps apologizing to Kurt about the sheer size of the event – he knows it makes Kurt uncomfortable – and Kurt keeps telling him not to worry about it, because he knew it would be inevitable.

Kurt is amazing in the weeks leading up to the wedding, calm and composed and level-headed when Blaine is freaking out about details, sweetly excited and beside himself with joy when they get to decide on a cake and music and an actual location for the ceremony.

Kurt draws both of their suits for the wedding – with the rest of the preparations he has no time to actually make them, but on his insistence Blaine's parents hire Isabelle to do the actual sewing and Kurt is so grateful when he hears about it, hugs Blaine so hard, Blaine has no choice but to pull a few strings and get her an official permanent position at court.

He offers Burt the same, but he declines, instead talks about retiring soon and giving his shop to Finn, who's been looking for more responsibility lately. Kurt thinks it's to impress Rachel, who has been spending a lot of time with Finn over the past months. And even with the announcement of the future king marrying a man, Blaine knows that ignorance is still a big problem in the villages. So he's hoping, though nothing is set in stone yet, that he'll be able to talk Burt into accepting a position as counselor or Lima Representative after his retirement as a blacksmith. He believes that since they're desperately in need of new laws to protect the victims of ignorance, the perspective of someone who's been a villager all his life might be incredibly helpful.

But for now, preparations for the upcoming wedding take up most of his time.

The most exciting thing they get to do, in Blaine's mind, is pick their quarters in the palace – his childhood rooms are no longer big enough for the both of them, and also he wants Kurt to have a space that's both of theirs, something they can make their own together. There's really no shortage of rooms at the palace since all of Blaine's ancestors used to have plenty of children. Most of the quarters have been transformed into guest rooms, some serve as sitting rooms or just storage. Kurt keeps rolling his eyes at the decadence of the place, but still takes the task very seriously, and eventually they settle on a suite with three rooms on the top floor – one sitting room, a bedroom (Blaine can't help but blush about the thought of a shared bedroom, a fact Kurt teases him about mercilessly and god he loves this man with all his heart, he can't wait to share his bed), and a third room big enough for a piano and a desk – this is where Blaine hopes they'll spend their evenings when no other duties call for them. He'll play for Kurt while Kurt draws, and maybe they'll sing together; Blaine will start on a sweet little melody and Kurt will join in with his beautiful, beautiful singing voice...

He is looking forward to a lot of things. All of them have to do with Kurt.

**

Kurt feels a little weird, leaving his dad's house on the day of his wedding – he's moving out and no matter how many times he dreamed of leaving this village, he suddenly feels very melancholy about abandoning his childhood home. He's had good times here too, with his father and his mother, when she was alive.

But he's gaining more than he loses, he knows this – he's getting married, which is something he's never thought possible, and he's in love, so in love, which still overwhelms him sometimes.

The ceremony itself is beautiful but short, Kurt feels a little lightheaded all the way through, can't take his eyes off of Blaine who looks so stunning in the clothes Kurt thought up for him.

Blaine's hands are shaking as they hold onto Kurt's during the ceremony but his voice is steady when he says his vows, his eyes shining with happiness. Kurt threads his fingers with Blaine's, says his own vows in an equally steady voice even if he feels about ready to float away on the emotion flooding his chest.

They dance in front of everyone at the reception, and Kurt knows all eyes are on them and not all of them like what they see. Today, he doesn't care. He has all he could have ever wanted in this life. He has love.

It's evening and the sun is already setting in the west by the time they manage to sneak out for a while – Blaine takes his hand, pulls him out onto the terrace where they first spoke almost two years ago. It looks the same, just a bit less intimidating after months of being exposed to life at the palace and all its grandeur and opulence.

“Hey,” Blaine says, as soon as they're alone, standing in front of Kurt with a smile on his face, something almost shy in his eyes.

“Hey yourself,” Kurt replies, then grins widely. “You're my husband.”

“I am.” Blaine lowers his eyes, his smile so pleased. “And you're mine.”

“Mine,” Kurt repeats, putting his hands on Blaine's hips to pull him closer, brings their faces together so their noses are touching. “You're _mine_.”

“Forever,” Blaine promises, and kisses him.


End file.
